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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28552482">Cyberpunk 2078: The Rebel Path</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubble_bones/pseuds/bubble_bones'>bubble_bones</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2078 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>+ the happy ending and Johnny romance we deserve, Alcohol, F/M, Fix-It, Sex, Substance Abuse, Swearing, Unofficial Sequel, and lots of it...</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:13:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>169,420</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28552482</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubble_bones/pseuds/bubble_bones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>So, six months ago I accidentally fucked up Arasaka. I say "accident," but everyone else now thinks I'm a goddamn hero. All I was doin' was savin' my own skin - and ended up bringin' Johnny Silverhand back from the dead. Now the important thing here is - no, that does not mean he's immortal, and trust me, he still bleeds and talks shit if you punch him. </p><p>But after so long runnin' away from Night City, maybe it's finally time to go back home. With Arasaka on its knees, now is as good a time as ever, right? Right. Johnny says right. </p><p>Fuck Arasaka.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Johnny Silverhand/Female V</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2078 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122395</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>355</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Return of the Goddamn King</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here it is, my sequel to the events of Cyberpunk 2077! Obvious spoiler warning for the ending(s) of the game, as well as side stories relating to the main characters. I've embellished some events in the game's plot and while I don't directly describe the ending/which ending I'm using (because it's a mix of a couple), there will be vague references to multiple endings. If you haven't finished the game yet and don't want spoilers, maybe bookmark this for later and come back when you're done crying! &lt;3</p><p>I'm actually pretty nervous about posting this, it's my first time sharing my fic writing for Cyberpunk! Despite its quite rocky launch and buggy state as of right now, I absolutely fell in love with this game and particularly Johnny Silverhand, because I mean - we've all looked at him. Don't try to tell me you don't swoon when he says, "Oh, V," in that voice. Because you'd be lyyyyyyying.</p><p>Some content warnings: the tags do a pretty good job, but there will obviously be a whole lot of swearing, smoking, drug use, alcohol, violence, and probably some more explicit nsfw chapters down the line. I will mark a chapter as nsfw if it contains it. I think it's pretty plain that this isn't for minors, so please do not continue reading if you are!</p><p>Also yes - this will be a multi-chapter fic and I can see it ending up quite long. Please look forward to more, and subscribe/bookmark if you'd like to see more!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>FEBRUARY 6TH, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p><b>NIGHT CITY / City Centre, Corporate Plaza :: </b><b><em>Paisley Hotel </em> </b> <b>… 5:30PM</b></p><p> </p><p>A <em> clack-clack </em> of shoes upon the polished marble suddenly reminded me that this fancy hotel room, the pretty clothes, the brand new iron? It had a purpose, and so did being there. At the very least, I could tell by the sound of those shoes that they weren't high heels - it wasn't not Rogue, not yet. But that meant it could only be one other person, and it was kinda startling to think that he made <em>noise </em>now. </p><p> </p><p>Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, opening my eyes to see the face of Johnny Silverhand was the same as watching the scares in a horror BD over and over. He kept me awake at night tormenting me, bitching about how my mind was no different a prison to Arasaka. He'd try to tell me how to behave, make my decisions for me, influence how I treated the people around me. I think, eventually, it would've had an effect - his personality crushing itself on mine would've made me think like him, act like him; walk and talk like him. </p><p> </p><p>Thank God for Alt. </p><p> </p><p>Now… Well, now he ain't so bad. I think while he taught me a few things about fancy reloading tricks for style points, and leading rock revolutions, I rubbed off on him, too. He only called me a cunt <em> sometimes </em>nowadays. </p><p> </p><p>And now that he had his own body again, I got to admire things about him only real, physical people have. Like the broadness of his shoulders and the silhouette of his waist in that fitted blazer; or the slim fit of his trousers. Maybe even the stubble that trailed down his throat, edging at the collar of his silky red shirt - I tried not to get too carried away with myself when I got a sudden flash of how that scratchy beard felt on my skin. Under my gaze, he fidgetedi. Shifted his weight between his feet, squeezed a metal thumb under the cuff of his other hand and wriggled his wrist. I got to my feet, and helpfully plucked a stray hair falling into his eyes, and tucked it back with the rest. It was slicked back, and for once I could see his face fully. </p><p> </p><p>"For a dead man," I said, watching as his eyes flicked up to my face from my chest. I knew the low dip of this dress' collar would interest him. "You look good, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks." he drawled, and he attentively watched my hands as they returned to their sides. "You don't look too bad yourself." he added. There was a sly look in his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>"Come on," I snorted, "You can do better than that." </p><p> </p><p>His lips twitched. "Alright. You look hot as fuck. Better?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Much </em> better." I agreed, planting one hand on my hip. I would have offered him better viewing angles of the interesting cutouts in this dress - like the ones at my waist, and the angled skirt that showed off my legs. But tonight was a work night, and we wouldn't be alone for much longer. Now <em> that </em>would've been awkward for Rogue to walk in on. </p><p> </p><p>From the inside pocket of his blazer, Johnny whipped out his trusty cigarette case. I'd bought that for him for a handful of eddies once I got sick of him dumping empty cartons all over the seat and dashboard of the truck. The little metal case has seen better days, haven taken even a bullet for its owner once. But it still stored his beloved tobacco all the same, and he offered me one after he put one to his lips. Yet another thing his psyche imposed on me, and this time it was a bad habit. Reluctantly, I took one, and put it between my lips while he lit it. </p><p> </p><p>Together, we lingered by the window. While this fancy corpo hotel suite was definitely filled to the brim with amenities of its own, the view was all we really cared about right then. If we weren't on a job, that ridiculously huge bed behind us would've probably been our biggest concern. But, as it was, the view of Night City below would have to do. The high rise we were in, I'd only ever been inside one like it once before - Konpeki Plaza. If I closed my eyes, it was easy enough to imagine Jackie's with me instead, T-Bug on the line. I realised only after a second that it was doing more harm than good, so I opened my eyes to stare out the window instead. Where Jack always aimed for the big leagues, I had always just wanted the next job to be as successful as the last. Now there I was - big leagues and even bigger names. Johnny Silverhand was at ease right beside me, a dead legend walking. Rogue, Queen of the Afterlife, our fixer and op leader both. Jack would be so pissed to know he'd missed out on this. </p><p> </p><p>Every time I looked out a window at Night City, I swore the neon lights got brighter. The buildings got higher, the streets busier with cars, the noise louder. The smog got thicker, and between it and the glow of the city beneath, you could never see the stars. It was okay though, because the view down below from here was good enough. The city at day time was one thing - at night, its namesake, it really came alive. And it's at night that my best work seems to happen. </p><p> </p><p>I could remember what it looked like coming back yesterday.</p><p>
  <b>FEBRUARY 5TH, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p><b>NIGHT CITY / Santo Domingo, Red Peaks </b> <b>… 1:43PM</b></p><p>I'd laid my eyes on the distant maze of high-rises from the highway as we rolled in just past one. Johnny seemed to be in good spirits too, drumming along to the song on the radio against the steering wheel of Shit-heap. He'd lovingly dubbed our truck as such after the fifth of many breakdown. Still, it had been one of the first things we'd bought with the eddies we'd made out in the country. It was <em> our </em>Shit-heap. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe it was coming back home that made us both so happy. It had been six months, after all. Six months of running, of hiding - taking any job that paid good, but wasn't important enough to attract attention. Living low-key really wasn't Johnny's thing, but somehow I'd convinced him it was better than being hunted by Arasaka. Oh, Arasaka… We'd been watching and waiting the second we fled Night City all those months ago. I'd let Alt run free on their net, after all. It would only be a matter of time. She'd promised me an hour - an hour to get clear, an hour to flee before she began the slow and meticulous process of tearing down everything Arasaka held dear. Except it wasn't slow, or meticulous. It wasn't patient like she'd promised. Not a week after we'd cleared NC and Johnny was back on his feet, news all over was reporting the absolute and indescribable destruction Arasaka was facing on an international scale. Silverhand was grinning like a kid in a candy store when we watched that first news headline. Arasaka was trying to pretend like they had it under wraps, and giving the media only so much info - except me and Johnny knew everything. We knew what they were facing, and we knew there was <em> no </em>stopping Alt. Or whatever she'd become across the Blackwall. </p><p> </p><p>"She knocked me out once, y'know." Johnny had said idly when the report had faded out into more nonsense ads. "Was so pissed off at me, she smashed a bottle over my head. Out cold for hours, even missed a show 'cuz of it." </p><p> </p><p>I'd blinked, once, twice, then acted offended. "So Alt was allowed to knock you out, but I'm not?" </p><p> </p><p>"Do it right now so I can sleep." </p><p> </p><p>I hadn't dignified that with a response. Idly, not feeling tired enough to settle down, I just sat there on that messy bed in that dismal motel, not really thinking, not really feeling. It wasn't a bad thing, I think I was just really fuckin' tired physically, but not worn out mentally. Talking long enough with Johnny would've soon sorted that out, but his mind was occupied with thoughts of Alt, now. He was lying beside me, eyes closed, but I knew he wasn't asleep. It felt oddly frustrating to be ignored like that when I was the one warming his bed now, but I think I could get it. Even if he'd never admit it, he'd had feelings for Alt - underneath his "fuck you, I hate you and everyone else" exterior, he'd cared for her. He wouldn't have planted a goddamn nuclear bomb in Arasaka for revenge if he didn't. </p><p> </p><p>But that was months ago. Returning to Night City now, in the aftermath of Arasaka's swift fall from grace, it didn't look like anything had even changed. Coming off the highway into the streets, everything looked relievingly familiar. I'd been so afraid the news had been covering up some sort of war inside NC, with Arasaka pouring their remaining resources into finding <em> someone </em>to blame for what happened. We took a detour and found Arasaka tower still standing, still branded as theirs to boot. This had ticked Johnny off, and before he could start another raging rant, I'd turned the volume on the radio up - it did its job to distract him while we took the next left to head to Afterlife. </p><p> </p><p>It was the first place we could both think of to go. My old apartment was out of the question - even while I was recovering from the shock of first inserting that blasted biochip, I'd been behind on rent. Months later when I'd finally rid myself of it and got a handy partner in a <em> real </em>Johnny, there was no way we could've stayed in NC without Arasaka sniffing us out. I think by then the Megabuilding Admin would've definitely scrubbed out my tenancy. I would worry about what happened to Nibbles, that cat who Johnny had taken a rather soft and kinda cute liking to, but he'd survived on his own before. I hoped the note about feeding him from his last caretaker was still there. </p><p> </p><p>I had to give him directions. Ironically, legend of Night City, Johnny Silverhand, was probably the most human man on her streets that day. Maybe he still is - after I'd gotten his body free of Arasaka's ice, I'd made a pit stop at Vik's before we'd sprinted for the hills. I'd never seen Vik so amazed by the severe <em> lack </em>of cyberware in a person before. Aside from his famous arm and basic neural work like the usual ports, he was all flesh and bone. He lacked most basic hardware and software most people think are necessities nowadays; no scanners, no navigation. Hence the instruction on going this way, taking that turn, heading down this road. He got so frustrated I almost made him swap seats with me just to avoid that argument, but after a short rant drowned out by the radio, he reigned it in. I think he revels in it, somewhat - enjoys the shouting and getting yelled at, some sort of weird angsty kink. But I'm no fun when I don't play along, so he let it go quite fast. </p><p> </p><p>"I need a smoke." he'd grumbled as we came to a stop at a set of lights before the last turn that'd lead us to Afterlife's parking lot. I grabbed his case from the glovebox, lighting the cig in my own mouth and taking a drag, then handing it over. He doesn't care about sharing stuff anymore - after sharing a body for so long, it feels natural to wordlessly use each other's physical stuff. </p><p> </p><p>"Nervous?" I asked. I knew the response I'd get, he indignance. Maybe a laugh, and then a jab at me, demanding to know why <em> the </em>Johnny Silverhand would ever face his nerves. </p><p> </p><p>He breathed out a cloud of smoke. "No. Just feelin'..." he sighed. Looked out the window, nodded at the wall on the underside of the train bridge overhead. "Check that out." </p><p> </p><p>Distracting me from the conversation aside, I sat up to look at whatever had amused him. In the gloom of the shadow, I could barely make it out; graffiti, done by who-knows. <em> Death to Arasaka! </em>It screamed in a vibrant clash of blue and red. Beside it, the artist had gotten particularly creative and turned the Arasaka logo into a dick and balls. </p><p> </p><p>"Looks like we started another revolution." Johnny chuckled, sinking a little more relaxed back into the driver's seat. </p><p> </p><p>"No, <em> you </em>started another revolution." I snorted, and took the cigarette he offered to me. I shot him a cheeky look as I took a drag. "This is my first time." </p><p> </p><p>A stupid smirk twitched onto his lips - equipped with the brain of a horny teenager at the mention of anything slightly anything inuendous, I knew he wouldn't be able to resist finding that one funny. </p><p> </p><p>"Can't promise it'll be gentle." he said back, and my joke backfired, because now I was laughing at him. </p><p> </p><p>Shit-heap rolled into the parking lot of Afterlife, and Johnny managed to find us a spot in the pathetically few spots. The engine died, and for a minute straight we both just sat there in silence. Going back in there after so long would be weird for <em> me </em>. Going back in there after fifty years of being dead would be even weirder for him. We both knew what each other was thinking without even having to say it; the smoke clouding up the cab of the truck wasn't the only thing choking up the air. I could've cut the tension with a knife, but it wasn't necessarily uncomfortable; between the two of us, we didn't mind silence, but the longer I sat there just thinking about going in, the more unsettled I felt. So eventually I abruptly opened the door and hopped out, grinding the cig under my heel. Johnny didn't get out for a few more minutes, and when he eventually did with a sigh, I went round to his side of the truck.</p><p> </p><p>"What's the plan then?" I asked. He looked at me like I had two heads.</p><p> </p><p>"Plan? We're goin' into Afterlife, not assassinating some corpo fuck. We don't need a plan." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah we do. We've been on the run from Arasaka for months, and you wanna just go in and blow our cover?" </p><p> </p><p>Johnny quirked a brow. "Wasn't that the whole point of comin' home?" </p><p> </p><p>That had me. He wasn't <em> wrong </em>, but I didn't wanna admit he was right. I was tired of running, and with Arasaka on its last legs, now was the perfect time to burn this city, or even claim it for Solos once and for all. But that didn't mean the idea of showing my face and having someone recognise me wasn't so terrifying it made my stomach churn. I'd explain that to him, if he wouldn't call me a pussy for it in some sort of lame motivation to prove him wrong. </p><p> </p><p>"What if this is a bad idea?" I asked nervously, staring at the side of the sleek-looking car behind Johnny. It was low to the ground - people lingering by Afterlife's doors were looking our way already. "What if we were wrong, and Arasaka's still got some power? They could come after us, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, let the fuckers try. It was only because you put so much effort in draggin' my lifeless body out of the city that I didn't stay and fight." Johnny huffed out a breath, taking some of his shoulder-length hair with it. He was probably the last one out of his old pals from the start of the century without grey hair nowadays. </p><p> </p><p>The <em> we </em> settled my stomach a little. Me and Johnny had been joined at the hip since we fled NC, and even before that when it wasn't optional to be stuck with me, he warmed up to being my partner in crime. Getting his own body back hadn't changed that, and it had been an overwhelming relief when he'd told me all those months  he had no plans to move on without me. That had been the same night it hit me how goddamn <em> lonely </em>my head felt without him constantly in it - the same night we'd accidentally figured out that dumb aftereffect of the biochip held us together like a flimsy chain. It had been a long road practising turning that chain into something both more tangible and practical. Any other person might balk at the idea of knowing how another was feeling, or hearing the vague whispers of their thoughts in the backs of their own heads. But for me, after so long of having Johnny in my mind, it had been oddly relieving to know that, thanks to a fuck up by Alt, we could still piss each other off by probing each other's squishy brains. </p><p> </p><p>I felt one such poke then. He was trying to see exactly why I was still making us linger out here, and letting him feel my worries instead of trying to explain them would be more effective anyhow, so I let him. Not like I could really say no; Vik had described it like a road, with traffic oncoming and leaving. Johnny could come and go as he pleased in my head, same with me. Only most of the time, it was so difficult to try to make sense of what we saw, we kept it to just primitive things: memories, feelings, senses. If we tried hard enough, we could pass basic messages, like single short words. Vik had said it was the most advanced form of telepathy he'd ever seen - and it was an accident at that - but we'd only ever used it to play a shitty game of charades. </p><p> </p><p>"You and I can take any gonks that come for us, you know that, V." he said eventually. We hadn't faced anyone we couldn't take down between us so far, so he was right technically. But that didn't mean we could face scores of Arasaka dogs and survive it. </p><p> </p><p>Still, I couldn't mope there all day. I let him think his words have been better motivation than they were, and nodded. Yeah, we probably could've taken on scores of goons, but for how long was the question. But, if anyone was gonna attack us in Afterlife, it wouldn't end well in their favour. Bar scuffles were one thing, but Rogue didn't tolerate biz fights on her turf from mercs or corpos. Afterlife was as safe as it'd get for now. </p><p> </p><p>So we headed in. Even as we descended the stairs into the gloom, Johnny kept his aviators in place on his nose, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. At least he seemed to be trying to be incognito, hiding the most recognisable part about him. Namely that silver hand of his. </p><p> </p><p>Even from outside the two sets of double doors blocking out entry, I could hear the thumping bass of the music drowning out the chatter from groups lingering outside the club. It was hard to see their faces in the dark, the only light being the sickly green glow of the backlighting on the wall tiles. Side by side we approached Cerberus himself - Emmerick Bronson. From one glance over him, he hadn't changed a bit from the last time I saw him that time I took Rogue on a date- no, <em> Johnny </em> took Rogue on a date. He was still burly and brutish, wide shoulders set in a respectful, hands-clasped in front of him sorta stance. His alert eyes jumped up when we approached, and he took one look at my face and smirked. </p><p> </p><p>"Knew you weren't dead, kid." he snorted, stepping aside and holding his arm out to the door invitingly. "Welcome back to the Afterlife." </p><p> </p><p>He didn't question who my companion was. But he didn't seem to recognise him either, which was good. We entered the club and I got a little overwhelmed with it all; the blaring noise of the music, the bright neon and the even brighter flood lights behind the bar. It smelled as bad as ever in here, of booze, smoke and blood. At least, even if it was gross, this place was consistent. </p><p> </p><p>"Let's go get a drink." Johnny decided. I didn't even hear or feel him lean close until I heard his voice in my ear, the only way to actually hear him over the thumping bass. I nodded in agreement and headed for the bar - this place had changed in <em> one </em> way. It was packed. I'd seen it busy before on late-night weekends or when big news of big money got sent to every merc in NC. But never <em> this </em>busy just on a random afternoon; vets and new blooded Solos alike crowded the bar, every barstool taken. Every dark corner was claimed by shifty-eyed folks and keen-eyed fixers. Squeezing through, I managed to make it to an empty-enough standing spot at the bar. Johnny, less patiently, shoved his way to come beside me, leaning an elbow on the bar. </p><p> </p><p>"What do you think he meant?" I asked while we waited there to be seen. Johnny leaned down to put his ear to my face, and when I repeated what I said, he looked at me blankly. I beckoned him back down and offered the context he'd forgotten. "Emmerick, the bouncer. He said he knew I wasn't dead." </p><p> </p><p>He shrugged. "Rogue was there that night at Arasaka, remember?" he said, "When you went in there alone, she must've assumed you were tryin' to go out with one last big, <em> fuck you </em>! to Arasaka. I'm guessin' she came back tellin' everyone you weren't comin' back. And when you didn't, well…" </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck." I huffed. I didn't like being considered dead to the world, that would suck ass. One of us had already been dead for fifty-something years, that didn't need to be both of us. Still it worked in our favour, mostly. If news had spread that I had died in that tower, no one would've known where to start looking otherwise. And who would doubt Rogue's word? Had she planned that? Unlikely, considering she was gone by the time I made it out of that goddamn tower. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny scratched at his jaw. Then, he glanced down at me, and asked, "Do you have my case?" </p><p> </p><p>Helpfully I whipped it out of the back pocket of my jeans. I'd stashed it when we got out of the truck, knowing he'd complain if he didn't have a smoke on hand. I offered it to him, and he clicked it open to put one between his lips. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, you want one?" </p><p> </p><p>I shook my head. If I kept going at the rate he smoked them, we'd both need lung enhancements before long, and we didn't have the eddies for that quite yet. </p><p> </p><p>Before long, we were noticed by the bartender. At the sight of her, I couldn't help but grin - and I got an award-winning one from Claire in response. She said goodbyes to the customers she was tending and wandered on down, planting her palms flat on the bar and shaking her head at me. </p><p> </p><p>"Had to leave me hangin' for six months before showin' your face again?" she asked, but she was smiling so I figured she wasn't so much pissed, more relieved. "We missed you round here, V." </p><p> </p><p>"Trust me, I missed you too." I laughed, leaning down on the bar. "As you can see, not dead! Unfortunately. Anyway, I'm craving a drink." </p><p> </p><p>"You're in luck. We have a new special." </p><p> </p><p>Intrigued, I watched her whip up the drink with expert ease. I saw a flash of a bottle of gin and grinned. When she was finished, she set it down, and slid it my way. </p><p> </p><p>"There you go." she said, offering me a smile. "A V, on the house." </p><p> </p><p>"Wait, what?" </p><p> </p><p>I blinked, dumbfounded. A drink - a drink named after <em> me </em>? I mean, I guess I'd been considered to be dead, but… Grinning as wide as my face would let me, I tipped it back and delighted in the taste. Fruity but with enough of a kick that it still burned a little going down. </p><p> </p><p>"Absolutely fuckin' perfect, Claire." I decided, setting the glass back down. "Holy shit, I thought you only made drinks for- well, dead people." </p><p> </p><p>"And you were, according to Rogue." Claire shrugged, "She came back without you, sayin' you'd went into Arasaka armed with nothin' but a pistol. You didn't come back, and whaddya know? A week later Arasaka's stocks plummet. All of their shit starts breaking, glitching. Their servers start droppin’ like flies. If taking down Arasaka's infrastructure single-handedly isn't cause for a drink in After, I don't know what is."</p><p> </p><p>"Well, thanks, Claire. It tastes good and looks pink, it's perfect." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, and one more thing." her eyes flashed a bright blue for a second, and then the menu of Afterlife's drinks list appeared in front of me. "I put yours right next to your friend's."</p><p> </p><p>My throat suddenly tightened up. Sure enough, in the second column of a growing list of names, there was a Jackie Welles, a brief description of the drink beneath as well as a short and sweet, "<em> Made it to the big leagues </em> " underneath as cause of death. I had to try real hard to keep my cool, and blink back the water welling up in my eyes. Moving down, I saw my own; a V, with, " <em> Arasaka's angel of death </em>" beneath. Yikes - dramatic and flattering. I hoped no corpos ever took a look at the menu here - that would be a surefire way to say bye-bye to whatever corner we have left. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Claire. Thanks a lot." I murmured, and with a blink, the menu closed.</p><p> </p><p>"No problem," then, she glanced up at Johnny. "And you? I'm guessin' tall, dark and handsome's gonna be havin' a drink too?" </p><p> </p><p>From the grin on Johnny's face, he was gonna have fun with this one. Pushing up back onto his feet, he unfurled his hands out of his pockets, setting one flesh and one metal on the surface of the bar. Claire glanced down at them, and by the time her eyes came back up again, a suspicious look was on her face. </p><p> </p><p>"A Johnny Silverhand." he said, cocking his head to the side. Almost like a challenge, "If you still bother makin' 'em anymore."</p><p> </p><p>She bit on his bait with a smarmy smile. "Old-fashioned tequila, splash of cerveza and a hint of chilli. I know my drinks." she looked him up and down, and nodded slowly. "You look alright for a dead man, Silverhand. Pleasure to meet you." </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks." he said dryly, the cig between his lips wriggling with every word. We watched Claire whip up his drink, and a tiny smile twitched onto his lips as she slid it to him. He offered me the last drag of his cig, and I'd barely put it in my mouth by the time he was already chugging his drink. I watched in mild surprise as he downed the entire glass, and let out a deep breath when he put the empty glass back down again. "Shit, I forgot how good that tastes." </p><p> </p><p>"To your satisfaction then?" Claire asked in challenge. He nodded. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. Good enough." </p><p> </p><p>Claire grunted. "You're a tough one to please." </p><p> </p><p>"Don't you know it." he said with a wink. It was such a lame joke, I groaned. Wasn't necessarily true, either, if you knew what you were doing. </p><p> </p><p>"So what's the deal, Claire?" I asked, before we could get sidetracked by a dick joke Johnny no doubt had ready on his tongue. "Why're there so many people here? Is Night City suddenly the only city in the world or what?" </p><p> </p><p>Claire snorted, and smiled at me. "Night City has always been the only city in the world, V, it's why everyone always comes back." she winked, but then shrugged. "Ever since Arasaka cracked, the people on the streets do what people on the streets do. They're takin' advantage. There's a gap in the market left by them, and people want in. They want to scavange what'll be left when they're gone, hasten it along with their rebellion of the corps and all that. With their control over the city slippin', NC is comin' closer and closer to bein' that free city it was always promised as."</p><p> </p><p>"So we really did start a goddamn revolution." Johnny barked a laugh beside me, flexing his fingers against the bar counter. As if he was getting antsy, as if he already wanted to take the fight to Arasaka not even a day after getting back. It made me nervous.</p><p> </p><p>"More mercs means less work for us." I huffed as I found an ashtray to grind the bud against. </p><p> </p><p>"So negative." he clicked his tongue, "There's always people in Night City - people means problems, problems they don't wanna dirty their hands for. That's where we come in." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, yeah. We just gotta make sure we get in on the good gigs fast." </p><p> </p><p>"You're actin' like this is my first rodeo." </p><p> </p><p>I smirked, and shot him a look. "I mean, you <em> have </em> been dead for the last fifty years. Maybe things have changed." </p><p> </p><p>"And you're a smartass who I was stuck watchin' waddle around doin' biz like a toddler. A toddler who only just learned to shit in his diaper, and not on mommy's floor. If anyone's still green as a merc, it's you." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh. I have a drink." </p><p> </p><p>"So do I, sweet-cheeks. That ain't gonna impress me."</p><p> </p><p>Claire stared at the bar top with a look on her face that screamed unimpressed. Still, she lingered long enough for me to stop glaring at Johnny and look back at her instead. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, if you're lookin' for work, you're in the right place." she said, "After's always got fixers, and even more than there was the last time you took work here." </p><p> </p><p>"You mean from Dexter DeShawn." I said dryly, and she laughed. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah… Heard that didn't go down all too well." </p><p> </p><p>"No it did not. Bastard shot me in the head." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny looked at me, suddenly intrigued. "This the dickwad who kicked the biochip into high gear?" </p><p> </p><p>I didn't really wanna start talking about this again, but not even Johnny got the full context of what went down with Dex. Even when I try to remember it myself, the memory's hazy, blurry. Misty once told me it might've been my brain doing what it usually should - block out the trauma so I don't feel the pain. Then why do I still remember what happened, just not clearly? </p><p> </p><p>"After he shot me, that was when the first memory of yours kicked in." I said simply. Wasn't going to go further than that, and I didn't feel like retelling the story to Claire, who was looking at me funny. It was a story that was way too long and way too much of a roller-coaster not to upset the gin now sinking into my stomach. Speaking of, I took another sip. Then another, and then I thought fuck it, and downed the whole thing like Johnny had.</p><p> </p><p>"You good, V?" Claire asked. I slammed the glass down and nodded. </p><p> </p><p>"Just thinkin' about Dex makes me so… Just so fuckin' angry. I wish I could've put the bullet in <em> his </em>head myself." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny shoved his metal hand into my hair and messed it all up. "Easy, tiger." he said, withdrawing his touch. If that was an attempt at consoling me, it was pathetically bad. I huffed and a pink strand of hair went up with it. "There'll be plenty of people to shoot in the head soon." </p><p> </p><p>"Says you. You've been cravin' a fight since we got back." </p><p> </p><p>"You know it. King's back in town, he's gotta show it." </p><p> </p><p>I sighed, and straightened up. "I'll offer you the next best thing - let's get drunk outta our minds." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny chuckled darkly. "I like that idea." </p><p> </p><p>Helpfully, Claire offered up her hands to the bar. "What'll it be?" </p><p> </p><p>"Let's do shots."</p><p> </p><p>"You know I'm gonna drink you under the table, don't you?" Johnny challenged, a grin on his face. "Make them vodka." he added to Claire. "Straight, none of that waterin' down bullshit." </p><p> </p><p>"Are you tryin' to kill us?" I aked as Claire began dutifully following Johnny's order. </p><p> </p><p>"No, I'm tryin' to get us pissin' drunk. Not my fault you're a lightweight." </p><p> </p><p>I huffed. Eyeing the filled shot glasses that looked tiny beside our already empty glasses, I figured it couldn't be <em> that </em>bad to have a few. Plus, Johnny was trying to bait me into proving him right - if I could stand a couple more than he could, he'd have to swallow his words. That was my thought, at least, as I knocked back the first shot. </p><p> </p><p>One shot turned into a couple. Then three, then four. It would take a few minutes for it to really kick in, so I kept going, determined to at the very least declare I could handle a given number of shots. I lost count after the fifth. </p><p> </p><p>"Now I'm not one to piss on someone's parade, but maybe you two should take it easy." Claire suggested, holding back the vodka as we both slammed our glasses down for the next one. "It ain't a race, slow down the pace. That's my little song to all the drunkards who get wasted and throw up on my bar."</p><p> </p><p>"Don't be lame, Claire." I whined, and flicked the corner of my shot glass across the bar towards her. I used a bit too much force, and it fell over instead with a roll. A little smash announced its spectacularly ungraceful landing off the other edge of the bar. "Oopsies." I shot her an apologetic look. As apologetic as it could get while the muscles in my face felt lazy, anyhow. </p><p> </p><p>Thankfully she didn't look too bothered. She set the bottle down while she went to brush up the remnants of the glass, and Johnny's naughty fingers robbed it while she was distracted. When she straightened up to see Johnny drinking directly from its neck, she looked unimpressed, but not surprised. Nor was I, really. The fact that the man can chug straight vodka without vomiting really wasn't a shocker to anyone. </p><p> </p><p>In a few hours he'll be reminded what having a real body is like. This time I'll be the one to be laughing when he's crying over a toilet bowl. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, well." I huffed, and pushed myself upright against the bar. Johnny was still going. "I'm gonna uh- I'm gonna go to the bathroom. I need to piss." </p><p> </p><p>"Enjoy." Claire waved her hand dismissively as I wandered off. </p><p> </p><p>I'd been to Afterlife's toilets before. They were grungy, dank, and gross, and I couldn't decide whether I was content or not to see that hadn't changed. The stall I chose was covered in graffiti and grime, but I had no choice, really; I hadn't gone to pee since we made a pit stop in the shitty motel just outside city borders. When I stood up and buttoned my jeans, my head spun hard enough I almost sat back down on that gross toilet again just to make it stop. Washing my hands was a task, and when I was done, I just stood still for a while staring at my reflection, listening to the muted <em> thump, thump, thump </em> of the music back out in the club. I waited for my cyberware to kick in; Vik had told me once that I had software to purge toxins. Was alcohol poisoning considered malware? </p><p> </p><p>I bit the bullet and splashed icy water over my face. The short shock kicked something into action; my vision went startlingly, completely black for a moment, and when it returned, things were less wobbly. It was almost like trying to put stabiliser wheels on a clown car. It sorta worked, but then too many shots with big red noses would tip it over every now and then. </p><p> </p><p>Stepping out of the toilets equipped with a slightly better set of senses, I realised part of me wished the music wasn't so loud. But, regrettably it's a part of Afterlife's charm. It was bizarre as all hell to see the place so damn busy. I wondered how many of these mercs had lost people, yet - how many had lost their friends like I'd lost Jackie, just so that they could be sitting here right now? How many of the arrogant, wide-eyed new bloods hadn't suffered a loss yet? It was really only a matter of time, and it was a harsh lesson in improvement. Pain made you better, eventually. Maybe my development had something to do with a flashy show-off taking residence in my brain, but Jack's death definitely was a kick in the ass to be better. If I had been a bit faster, a bit sharper, then maybe… </p><p> </p><p>I sighed, and shook the thought off. It was too late now, and no amount of thinking about it would change things. Jackie wouldn't want me moping about it either. </p><p> </p><p>From here, I could see Johnny still standing by the other end of the bar. It was very weird to see him, a man who only I could see for a long time, talking to someone who I knew was very real like Claire. It was like two different worlds I had been parts of had joined together and I was the only one getting whiplash. Suddenly, I felt terrified of being here - Rogue hadn't spoken to me in months, not after she left Johnny, in my body, in that drive-in theatre. It was easy enough to say we probably weren't on speaking terms after whatever happened between them, because it was me who was with her, me who touched her, me who <em> kissed </em>her. Presumably, anyway. Johnny had told me as much but gave me no details. So if Rogue happened to walk into her bar right now to see the guy who she had a very complicated relationship with, the guy who had died fifty years ago, drinking and chatting with her bartender, who knows what would go down? </p><p> </p><p>I almost made it back to him unscathed. The walk would've been relatively simple, and it was clear of people. Or at least it was until a gonk the size of a small elephant came stomping through, and looked me dead in the eye as he walked towards me - I kept going too, towards him. I could've easily squeezed past him. I could've just as easily kissed his ass. Obviously I did neither. </p><p> </p><p>So I was rewarded with his shoulder as he barged past. Not only that, but an unnecessary, spiteful shove. Thankfully my fall was cushioned by the backs of two dudes sitting at the bar; there was a crash or two as their drinks went flying, and noisy complaints from them about it, but at least I didn't end up on my ass. Even if I was slightly tipsy thanks to the not-so-full reboot of my system, I still got up quick enough to try to go after the guy. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck's your problem?" I demanded over the obnoxiously loud music. Thankfully my shout was loud enough to catch his attention, and he stopped. He deigned me worthy of <em> one </em>look over his shoulder. A single, cold look. I didn't know his face. No visible cyberware, so maybe a corpo, rich enough to pay for them not to show. Not dressed for it though, and too grizzled, unkempt. He looked like a world-weary vet, but that meant nothing. After all, I was someone now too, and even when I didn't have a drink in Afterlife, I never let anyone walk over me. That was a trait I picked up early on the streets of Haywood. </p><p> </p><p>But then the guy just moved on. As if I had been a fly he'd stepped on by accident but didn't give a shit about either - as if I hadn't said anything at all. Furious, I went to go after him; I mean, what kind of NC legend would I be if I let random gonks push me over in After? Or at least I would've gone after him like I'd wanted to, if I had any say in things. </p><p> </p><p>As it turned out, I did not. Not if the gonks behind me had anything to do with it. </p><p> </p><p>"You spilled our drinks, you stupid bitch." said the one who had a tight grip on my wrist. Joke's on him really - one command, a single thought, and the monowire beneath would slice his fingers to shreds. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, don't worry." I said, with a smile I made sure was far too sweet. "From the looks of you, you can't afford anything better than cheap swill anyway." </p><p> </p><p>For a minute, both the guy who grabbed me and his choom looked at me, stunned. Evidently they're not used to women having their own mouths - and evidently they don't speak to many women at all. </p><p> </p><p>I took advantage of their silence to keep talking. "If you know what's good for you," I jerked my chin upwards defiantly, "You'll drop this, and lick your drink off the fuckin' bar." </p><p> </p><p>Finally the asshat found his tongue again. "What's good for us?" he barked a loud laugh, slapping his buddy on the back. "I think you're way out of your depth, bitch. Do you know who you're messin' with?" </p><p> </p><p>I gave them the satisfaction of looking them from their street-stompers to the dumb printed caps they wore upon their heads. They looked like they'd just wandered in by accident off the streets; just like any basic street thug. No gear, no fancy cyberware. The only evidence that they were packing was the very visible handguns tucked into the bands of their pants. </p><p> </p><p>"I have no fuckin' idea who you are." I responded cooly, shrugging. "You'd best move along, choom, you and your lil leagues lookin' motherfucker." I added with a nod to his friend. With his baseball tee and shorts, he looked ready to whip out a bat. Maybe he would, if his face got any redder with rage. </p><p> </p><p>"Shut your mouth, or I'll shut it for you." </p><p> </p><p>"No, you shut <em> your </em>fuckin' mouth. Back off. You don't wanna upset Rogue, do you?" </p><p> </p><p>Abruptly the two burst into heavy laughter. I stood there and waited until it subsided. I knew why they were laughing, and for once, the name drop actually had grounds to stand on. I knew Rogue would be pissed if these goons started a fight in her bar over something so petty - and probably more so if it was with me. Whether that anger would be towards them for attacking me, or me for… Well, just in general, I couldn't guess. </p><p> </p><p>"You think you're buddy-buddy with the queen of the Afterlife?" his pal snorted, and gasped for breath as his laughter died down. "Oh, that was a good laugh! No one's friends with her, the old bitch." </p><p> </p><p>"Woah," I said, genuinely taken aback, "You were already toein' a line with me, but insultin' Rogue? That's a dangerous fuckin' game, pal, especially here."</p><p> </p><p>"Whatcha gonna do about it, huh?" the other gonk came close - too close for him to walk away from this unscathed now. He was up in my personal biz, and no one does that unless I say so. Maybe he thought he could intimidate me by standing over me. I would get the last laugh; my partner towered over me every time we were standing in the same space, and not even he could intimidate me. </p><p> </p><p>Speaking of my partner… </p><p> </p><p>In a very late albeit chivalrous attempt to help out, Johnny rocked up beside me. He folded his arms casually, and looked the two gonks from feet to head, an unimpressed look on his face. I knew where both of us kept our weapons - one quick think, just in case things went south - formulated a plan. Anyone pulled iron on either of us, and I could pull my own out of the holster beneath my jacket, against the left side of my chest. Alternatively I could pull Johnny's out of the back of his belt, but he'd probably go for that too. I was just jealous of his gun, after all. I missed being allowed to handle the Malorian Arms 3516. What a sexy beast of a weapon that thing was, packed a punch and was easy to handle - pulling off those fancy tricks Johnny taught me. When we would start making serious eddies back here in NC, I wanted to track one for myself. I didn't care how much it would cost me. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, is this your whore then?" the cocky gonk turned to address Johnny, and I idly wet my lips. Maybe it would be worth letting Johnny punch him - maybe I could convince Rogue it was an accident later. He's really starting to deserve <em> something </em>. </p><p> </p><p>So I added a bit more kindling to the fire. "So, Johnny," I said, flashing him a smile. He looked down at me with a quirked brow. "These two fuckheads were just telling me how much of an old bitch Rogue is." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny laughed. A loud, sudden bark of a laugh, one that sounded so genuine I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't just for show. Then, abruptly, he righted his head from where he'd thrown it back, and pinned the two of them down with a look so sharp it could've burned through the shaded glass of his aviators. </p><p> </p><p>"Are you motherfuckers stupid, or do you have a death wish? I can't fuckin' tell." he mused, and used the strength of his silver hand to crack the knuckles in the other with ease. "Callin' V a whore? Now that's askin' for a beatin' all on its own. But toppin' it off by callin' Rogue an <em> old bitch </em>?" he snorted again, and couldn't wipe the smirk off his face this time. "Only I'm allowed to do that, ass wipes." </p><p> </p><p>Abruptly, the sound of metal crunching against bone drew the second goon's attention to Johnny's hands. More specifically, the silver one. Seemingly entranced he stared at it. And when Johnny's hands fell back to his sides, the gonk looked so pale he could've gone invisible. </p><p> </p><p>"I-I think we should leave it." he said suddenly, grabbing his pal's shoulder with a shaky hand. "Come on, they were only drinks." </p><p> </p><p>The gonk shook off his choom's hand dismissively. "What the fuck's gotten into you? We'll teach this fucker and his bitch not to mess with us. We'll teach this whole goddamn bar." </p><p> </p><p>"Not wise, would not suggest it, zero outta ten plan." I chipped in, planting my hands on my hips. "Gotta give it to ya though, you really have not thought this through. It's impressive, really." </p><p> </p><p>"You really need to shut the fuck up-" </p><p> </p><p>I watched his hand raise in my direction. Then suddenly his whole body snapped backward - Johnny's fist planted against his cheek. The general babble of the club faded to quiet aside from the aggressively-loud music and everyone turned to look almost in unison. It was a little eerie how in time they were, actually. Still, I remained where I was even with the eyes on me; after that fist of metal to his jaw, the guy couldn't surely still be thinking it would be a good idea to get up and keep talking shit. My fingers twitched though, ready to catch the monowire that would fall out of my wrist if I needed it. </p><p> </p><p>"You motherfucker…" the guy breathed. Impressive really that he managed to get to his feet. I can't usually walk for an hour after I get hit by Johnny's silver hand, but somehow I think the situations were probably a lot different. Plus, this guy had only been hit <em> once </em>. </p><p> </p><p>All of a sudden, the gonk lunged. I was ready with my monowire, but Johnny beat me to the punch - literally. He grappled with him before I could even touch him, and a little groan left me. What could've been solved very quickly was now gonna become something unnecessarily long and dramatic; what else would it be if Johnny was involved? I barely breathed in quick enough just in time to dodge Johnny's chosen melee weapons of choice - the spikes on his arm spun to face outward with a short <em> shink </em>, and I rubbed at my head as he tumbled after the other guy who'd actually managed to get a hit in. Johnny's lip was split already, from the glance I managed to catch. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe suggesting he augment that arm was a bad idea. I could already see what future deadly additions he'd make. </p><p> </p><p>The music in Afterlife was very swiftly joined with a holy choir of shouting, jeering and cheering. People gathered around us to watch Johnny and this no-name gonk beat the shit out of each other like kids on a school play yard. Well, it was mostly Johnny beating the shit out of that other guy. Apart from the blood trickling into his beard and the occasional grunt as he took a blow to his stomach, he was fine. Or, at least he was until an abrupt shattering sound caught my attention. </p><p> </p><p>I was too slow. Johnny was too oblivious. All around us the crowd of mercs let out a "<em> ohh! </em>" in sympathy as the spiked ends of a smashed bottle crushed up into Johnny's middle. If I'd moved any faster I could've stopped it, but unfortunately all I managed was to grasp the back of the idiot's collar and drag him aside. He got a decent punch in the nose too, and he collapsed to the floor with a groan. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, are you-" I didn't even get to finish showing my concern before he pushed past me like I'd said nothing. Taking a step back, I gulped; there was no stopping that furious burning look in his eye, not even the blood seeping through his hoodie. Planting each foot either side of the gonk who was already bordering on unconsciousness, he grabbed a hold of his collar, yanking his lifeless body up like a doll. And then the first crack of a punch echoed through the bar. </p><p> </p><p>I didn't even realise the music had been turned off until the second punch hit. Choosing where I went carefully - namely avoiding the spikes jutting out of his elbow - I reached Johnny and tried to grab a hold of him. Stop him from beating the life out of this guy. Sure he'd insulted me <em> and </em> Rogue, sure he'd challenged Johnny <em> and </em>stabbed him, but he'd learned his lesson. He didn't need to die. </p><p> </p><p>And Johnny didn't need more blood on his hands. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, stop. Stop it! That's enough-" </p><p> </p><p>"I decide when enough’s fuckin' enough!" he barked without even looking at me. He shrugged me off as if I was just a fly. </p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck is goin' on here?" </p><p> </p><p>A shiver ran up my spine. Oh <em> fuck </em>. Swallowing the lump in my throat I looked up to see the person I was dreading. There she was, looking as if she hadn't aged a day since the last time I saw her, still clinging onto her looks and her body as if she wasn't a day over forty. Standing there in a sharp leather jacket that shined green under the lights of Afterlife, handguns strapped over the legs of her jeans, Rogue was only missing a crown to finish off the picture. The second she saw me, her eyes narrowed so suddenly it looked painful, even. An unspoken fury chilled me to the bone. </p><p> </p><p>"H-Hey, Rogue." I offered. It was weak and flimsy, and even just her glare could've shot right through my attempt at bravado. </p><p> </p><p>With a grunt, Johnny let the gonk thump against the floor under his feet. Standing upright, and pressing a hand tightly against the seeping wound in his middle, he offered his ex-lover a charming grin. </p><p> </p><p>His sounded more confident, casual even: "Hey, Rogue." </p><p> </p><p>The look in Rogue's eyes when he spoke… Coming to Afterlife was the right choice for the wrong reasons - we definitely came to the right place to die. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed the pilot chapter of this fic! Please leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed, it never fails to make me smile &lt;3</p><p>If you wanna come scream with me about Cyberpunk or Dragon Age, feel free to find me on tumblr under the name <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a>!</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Queen of the Afterlife</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much everybody for the positive reaction to the first chapter! As I said last time I was really nervous about posting into a new fandom, but I'm glad everyone enjoyed it and are getting invested already into my fic, it means so much! &lt;3 </p><p>I wanted to get the next chapter out soon as thanks! But don't be expecting every chapter to be updated so fast, I'm really inconsistent haha, I will try my best!</p><p>I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <b>FEBRUARY 5TH, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p><b>NIGHT CITY / Watson, Little China ::<em>The Afterlife </em></b> <b>… 2:42PM</b></p><p>Rogue was pissed. No, scratch that, she was <em> beyond </em> pissed. Like so pissed I think anyone standing next to her would’ve just abruptly burst into flames. But there was more to it than that - she was pissed and confused, not that she let it show for very long. There it was though, just a second-long glimpse into something a little more vulnerable than her tough-girl bravado, and that was absolutely fine. I mean, I get it. She and Johnny were complicated, I knew that, because Johnny didn’t do normal relationships. And after whatever happened on that date Johnny used my body for - he still refused to tell me details - Rogue kept her distance from <em> me </em> too. Not that she had much of a choice staying away from Johnny if she kept away from me. Back then we were a package deal.</p><p> </p><p>But that hadn’t exactly changed now Johnny had his own body again. I think the problem was probably the fact that he <em> had </em> a body, and it wasn’t mine because I was standing beside him. And the fact that his body was standing over the beaten pulp of some no-name, shit-talking gonk in <em> her </em> Afterlife. That was what made her pissed.</p><p> </p><p>“You two.” Rogue said lowly, sharply. It could’ve cut me as easily as that glass had sliced Johnny up - speaking of, he seemed to finally recognise that it probably <em> hurt </em> and was pressing his hand tight against his abdomen. “Back rooms. Now.”</p><p> </p><p>Johnny grunted, and I wordlessly followed after him as he ungracefully traipsed over the guy’s body on the floor. He was groaning and rolling as I passed, trying to sit up. Emmerick hauled his sorry ass to his feet, and held him upright to hear the queen’s judgement.</p><p> </p><p>“Get the fuck outta my bar. And never come back.”</p><p> </p><p>For a second, the air was silent and tense. It kinda made me feel queasy - or was that the vodka talking? Then, Rogue let out a groan, of disappointment or annoyance, maybe both. As she turned her back on the bar, the music kicked back into gear and people awkwardly picked up their conversations again. It was as if her every move in this place controlled the very vibe. </p><p> </p><p>And right now, the vibe wasn’t very enjoyable.</p><p> </p><p>She charged past us without saying a word and led the way to a quiet back room where, without hesitation, Johny sunk into a chair. A long, low groan left his lips as he settled back against its plush back, glancing down at his silver palm that was now tinted very unhealthily red.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, sit still.” I instructed in the awkward silence while Rogue stood with her back to us, deciding on where to start with her lecture. “I’ll go get a first aid kit from Claire. Don’t fidget.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah.” he waved his hand at me - his free hand, not the one keeping pressure on his wound. “Hey, wait,” he caught my hand as I tried to pass, and I looked at him questioningly, “You got my smokes?” </p><p> </p><p>I rolled my eyes and huffed as I handed him the case. Seemingly entertained while I went off, he didn’t say anything else. I felt nervous leaving him alone with Rogue, but since I didn’t even know the full picture of what went down between them, I didn’t exactly have a place to interfere. Plus, as much as Rogue hated Johnny, I highly doubt she’d punch a man while he was already down - and bleeding. </p><p> </p><p>So I went and fetched a kit from Claire from behind the bar. She gave me an amused look as she brushed up the smashed glass bottle and mopped up the blood already seeping into the tiled floor. Funny, considering there were already a lot of blood stains on this floor, some probably even dating back to when this place was a mortuary. I got the kit from her, as well as managing to ask her for another Johnny Silverhand - this time, in a tall glass. After that, well... I had no choice but to return to that room that was so awkwardly silent when I walked in, I would’ve walked right back out if Johnny wasn’t bleeding.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, hands up.” I said, beckoning him. Groaning like a child being forced to wear a band-aid, he sat up, and let me peel his hoodie up from over his head. The tank top he wore underneath could stay, didn’t need to make this even more awkward with Johnny being half-naked. It made a gross squelchy sound as I peeled the fabric away from his wound though, so soaked through with blood that I had to stop to wonder how he was still conscious. “Gonna need a few stitches, big guy.” I gave him the bad news as I rooted around in the bag. I’d done stitches before, on Jackie. On myself once or twice too while I was running without a partner. Zero outta ten, would not recommend that. </p><p> </p><p>“At least take me to dinner first.” he grumbled dryly. </p><p> </p><p>“Shut up and drink this.” I said, offering him the glass I’d set on the low table behind me. Rogue was on the other side of it, shooting us a silent but one hundred percent judgy look every so often. “Slowly, idiot. Pace it so you have some for when I start stichin’.”</p><p> </p><p>Johnny glared at me. “So bossy, fuck.” </p><p> </p><p>“See, you don’t like it when it’s the other way round, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t respond to that one. Just stared at the wall and took a slow sip of his drink, gulping it down as I threaded my needle. Claire had the good stuff - synthetic threads with stimulant boosters. They’d work wonders on closing up this wound in no time. I was trying to focus on finding a good place to start on that gash of his, but couldn’t help watch his face a little out of curiosity as the needle first went in. Not out of spite or amusement. Just genuinely curious to see how the big man Johnny Silverhand himself tried to handle such necessary pain. He did it quite well, actually; his nose would scrunch up with every pierce of the needle, and his fist would clench against his thigh, but otherwise, he kept it quite dignified. Strangely, not what I’d expected. Last time he’d let me tend to his wounds was to clean a cut on his forehead and he’d cursed and complained every time I so much as went near him with the cloth. </p><p> </p><p>Was it because of Rogue? I glanced cautiously over my shoulder, and was relieved she wasn’t looking at me. She was opposite Johnny, and was staring <em> him </em> down instead. She hadn’t said a single word yet, but her silence and her straight-up terrifying glare said all that she needed to. She was angry, confused - hurt that no one had told her what the fuck was happening. I would’ve been too. Still, sympathy didn’t help the roiling in my gut at the argument that was incoming, the one that would blow up out of nowhere like it did every time Johnny disagreed with someone over <em> anything </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“Almost done.” I said, slipping the needle through his skin one last time. Tying it off, I went to tidy him up a bit, but he waved me off and did it himself, though far messier than I would’ve been. So to thank him for being ungrateful, I kindly took his glass and started drinking it for him. V: endlessly sexy, talented, and unstoppably helpful. </p><p> </p><p>It was then that Rogue looked at me. She was angry, yeah, but there was something else. I didn't know how to describe it, or what to say in the face of it, so I just looked back. When she dismissively cast her eyes downward, I did too - caught the sheen of Johnny's smoke case under the light and grabbed it. All of this was too tense, too awkward. At least lighting one would help. Or it would, if there were any left; I'd barely shot the glare at Johnny before he flung his arm out and offered me what was left of his. </p><p> </p><p>"So," Rogue finally said with a heave of breath. Part of me didn't wanna look at her, but I did anyway, gulping as I did. I hoped it wasn't too obvious. She looked once at me, then at Johnny - a longer, sterner look, like we were puppies and I'd pissed on the carpet but he'd taken a dump. She wiped at her mouth, and when her hand came away, her lips were pursed. "Are either of you gonna tell me what the <em> fuck </em>is goin' on?" </p><p> </p><p>I scratched at my head and flipped my hair back while I waited for Johnny to start. I mean, he knew Rogue better, he'd known her longer. They were… Well, whatever the fuck they were. Dating? Fucking? Wasn't my business but it was something, and so it didn't feel like my place to start offering up excuses first. So I silently breathed in from the cigarette and took as many drags as there were left, and when I was all out, I ground it into the ashtray on the table. By the time it was nothing more than just grey dust causing a small smoke storm between us, no one had said anything even still. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, fine, fuck." I said quickly under my breath, getting Rogue's attention. I shuffled forward to the edge of my chair, leaning heavy on my knees. "You might wanna sit down. This is a long one." </p><p> </p><p>"I'll stand, thanks." Rogue decided. I nodded awkwardly, who was I to argue? </p><p> </p><p>"Some context first then, if I'm gonna tell the whole story." I looked at Johnny, a final offer for him to say his piece first. He just stared blankly at the table, and I was beginning to wonder if he was drunk, or delirious from blood loss. I didn't bother to pressure him then, and turned back to Rogue. "Months ago," I started, wracking my brain for the details, "When I was still tryna fix that biochip problem, I followed up with a lead to the Voodoo Boys. They wanted the biochip to find Alt Cunningham." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh," she wet her lips, but didn't sound surprised, really. More exasperated, like she'd heard that name one too many times to be happy about it. "Right, okay. And?" </p><p> </p><p>"We found her. Well…" I rubbed at the back of my neck. "Whoever she was before, it's not what she is now. She was alive all this time like Johnny was, except - I mean, I don't know the details, but whatever Arasaka did to her by pluggin' her into that machine, she just became part of the net. Like she's some sort of… crazed AI, using her face and her voice-"</p><p> </p><p>"But it's not her." Johnny interjected abruptly. His voice was low and cold. But if he was listening enough to offer opinions, he was conscious enough to be explaining this himself. Predictably, he didn't say anything else, and shut down again. Apparently the table was more fascinating than either of the women in front of him right now. His daze would worry me if he hadn't spoken up. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah." I agreed, "Beyond the Blackwall, she became somethin' else. Either way, she promised to help me in return for one thing - access to Arasaka." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue was a clever girl, so it was already being pieced together behind her eyes. What I didn't expect was a laugh - a short and sudden laugh that surprised me. As soon as it came, it was gone, and she stared, incredulously pissed at the table. </p><p> </p><p>"So you didn't do shit to Arasaka." she muttered, shooting me a look, "That was all Alt, or whatever the fuck she is." </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, give me credit here? I may not have written the fuckin' bug but <em> I </em>got it in there, alone, against a shit ton of guards."</p><p> </p><p>She flashed me a look that said all it needed to. Huffing, I sank back into my chair. So, what did that mean? Was she going to ruin this rep I'd built up by not even being here? Was she going to personally scrub out the stupid fuckin' <em> angel of death </em> under my drink on the menu? At the very least, so long as Johnny kept his word and stuck with me, we had <em> his </em>rep to get us good jobs at least. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, so what then?" Rogue continued without addressing it. Swallowing down my arguments I'd prepped for the last topic, I scrambled for where we left the story off. </p><p> </p><p>"Alt did a… I don't know, calling it a scan feels like it ain't enough. But she looked at all of Arasaka's servers in a second; their history, their experiments, their contacts, their projects, everythin'. She found the Soulkiller project stashed away, like they hadn't touched it in years. We'd all been told by Smasher that Johnny had been buried in that goddamn oil field, but it wasn't fuckin' true, Rogue. It was to throw us off and we fell for it."</p><p> </p><p>She rubbed at her brow, and began to pace a little. There was only one person who got more riled up at the mention of Smasher, and that was the guy who was lazily drinking from his glass across from me. That blood stain was visible from here, even on the black synth cotton - as soon as I started getting more eddies, we both needed new clothes. I blinked, and corrected the thought: as soon as <em> we </em>start getting more eddies. It had been so long since I worked with a partner in NC that I went into autopilot. We only had so much saved up from the mild and quite shitty jobs out in the country, which would be enough for lodging somewhere for a few nights until we had enough eddies to stand on. If it came to it, we'd sleep in Shit-heap. We'd done it before - in the hot summer evenings, we'd slept on the bed out back, and in the cold, we'd piled up across the cab. Usually it was me on top of him, of course. Other way round and I'd be squished. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue was waiting for me. </p><p> </p><p>"Arasaka had him all this time," I said, and the look in her eyes for that brief minute read all the fury in hell itself. "They kept his body on ice even after using Soulkiller on him like some twisted experiment, like they were plannin' to put the chip back in <em> him </em> or somethin'. Alt helped me, I don't know - <em> split </em>Johnny up from my mind, and stuff him back in his own head. It wasn't completely clean though, she said she didn't have the time or means to be a 'perfectionist,' as she put it."</p><p> </p><p>"So what's that mean?" Rogue asked. Finally, she sat down, sinking into the chair, and as she continued talking, I realised why: she thought she might really need to hear this. "You're still dyin'? Both dyin'? Johnny comes back with the tradeoff of a few months?"</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, I had the means to relieve her. Piling on the bad news would've probably ended with us getting kicked out, so I was glad I had something good to say. </p><p> </p><p>"Nope. I'm alive, I'm fine. And so's Johnny, only thing is he looks young enough to be a corpo payin' top dollar for anti-aging." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny grunted wordlessly at me. When finally he said something, it was after he'd fidgeted enough that I had to worry about his stitches, and he set down the empty glass on the table. </p><p> </p><p>"You got my smokes?" he asked me again, as if he hadn't before already. </p><p> </p><p>"No, Johnny, <em> you </em>had 'em. And they're all gone." </p><p> </p><p>He huffed, and threw himself against the back of the chair again. I would've lectured him about how many he was having, but some part of me was convinced he'd calm down once he got used to having a body again.</p><p> </p><p>I said the same thing about how he fucks me. Suffice to say that hadn't changed. </p><p> </p><p>"So what's the downside? The price?" Rogue continued, ignoring Johnny entirely. "Nothing that good comes for free. Somethin's gotta give." </p><p> </p><p>"And it's my sanity! Me and Johnny are still, like, connected, I guess. He can have a look in my head, and I can look in his. Most of the time it's like lookin' through frosted glass though, nowhere near as clear as it used to be." </p><p> </p><p>She rubbed at her eyes, and then looked up at me. She looked tired as hell, and if I was stupid, I'd say her age was finally catchin' up to her. But I <em> wasn't </em>stupid, so I decided to think she looked as young as the day she turned twenty-one. </p><p> </p><p>"Usually, I wouldn't think pricey tech like telepathy comin' free was a bad thing, but…" she glanced at Johnny, who for once, met her gaze. For a long, awkward second, they shared a silent conversation that didn't need telepathy, one I wasn't privy to. Then they both looked at me. "Yeah, I can see why it might be a pain in the ass." </p><p> </p><p>Abruptly, Johnny shifted. As he tried to get to his feet, I jumped up too, trying to add to the resistance his muscles were already putting up to keep him down. No matter how tough <em> I </em>might've been, he was still stronger, and if anything, turned the tables on me and used my grip to steady himself onto his feet. </p><p> </p><p>"I need another drink." he decided, and I shook my head sternly. </p><p> </p><p>"I think you've had enough." </p><p> </p><p>"V-" </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>For a while, he simply stared at me, as if he expected me to crumple under his gaze. Yeah, <em> sometimes </em>it worked, but those sometimes usually had us both in a more fun position with fewer clothes between us. So, after that attempt, he slowly sunk back down into the chair, and when he was settled again, he let go of my arms. When I was certain he wasn't gonna go skipping back to the bar for another drink, I sat down too. </p><p> </p><p>"So what now?" Rogue asked, nodding to the two of us. She'd taken this all in really well, though that wasn't a surprise. She had always been tough, and had already dealt with the idea of Johnny's return once before - except I hadn't seen that because he'd been in control, and the next thing I knew, I woke up hungover with Rogue suddenly in the know. </p><p> </p><p>I shrugged. "Back to the grindstone," I said, "We've come to Night City lookin' for work, the usual. Makin' eddies, makin' names, breakin' faces. Want more than just to survive this time, though." </p><p> </p><p>"I want my car back." Johnny decided, "V sold it." </p><p> </p><p>"Not willingly! We had to get quick cash and it was the only thing I had." </p><p> </p><p>"You still sold my fuckin' car, V." </p><p> </p><p>"And I'd sell you if I could, goddamn." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue sighed, as if she was dealing with children. To be fair, arguing with Johnny most often made me feel like a dumb kid. He scrubbed away my brain cells til it was smooth like an egg. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, you'll find no shortage of it in After, as usual." she said helpfully, "And between the two of you I'm sure you'll find eager fixers and clients." </p><p> </p><p>Despite that sounding mostly final, it felt like she had more to say. So I waited, and when the silence had gone on long enough, she spat it out. </p><p> </p><p>"If you two wanted, I could set you up with some first." she offered, and I perked up. "I have a job that needs reliable, competent people. I know Johnny's at the very least competent, and you're both. Whaddya say?" </p><p> </p><p>"I say what's the job, first?" </p><p> </p><p>I never agreed to anything without knowing what was what anymore. Back then I didn't have the luxury to turn down work from a big name fixer like Dexter DeShawn, even if the wrong thing stank from the get-go. But now, here I was, sitting in a private room with Rogue Amendiares, Queen of the Afterlife herself, with Johnny Silverhand as my backup. He'd have anyone believe <em> I </em> was his backup, even though he obviously didn't need it. Still, it meant I could pick and choose now, and the important thing was, Rogue knew that. She needed <em> us </em>. </p><p> </p><p>"You've probably heard about what's happening to Arasaka right now." she said, and I nodded. Not detailed, but vaguely, which was laughable considering my hand in it. "Everyone and their mom's tryna jump ship, even high-level execs. They're takin' their shares and they're runnin' for the hills." </p><p> </p><p>"Hanako not have anythin' to say about it?" </p><p> </p><p>I hadn't seen her after I'd gone into Embers that night. Still, I'd heard from the news only a few turbulent weeks after being named as heir and CEO of Arasaka, Yorinobu <em> mysteriously </em>died. Now Hanako was head honcho, but that probably didn't mean much with the state of things. </p><p> </p><p>"Like the princess has time to care with everythin' else goin' on." Rogue said dismissively, shooting me a grin. "Anyway, one of these… Runaways, let's say. Name's Kita Nobuharu, he's the target." </p><p> </p><p>"Who's payin' for the assass of Arasaka runaways?" </p><p> </p><p>"Not dead. That's not the job, anyway. No, the job is to steal from him." </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, I'll bite. What's he got that's so important?" </p><p> </p><p>Rogue's eyes glinted with something sneaky. She smelled an opportunity. </p><p> </p><p>"Records from Arasaka. Research data, info, contacts. He thinks that he can auction it off to the highest bidder, but I think otherwise." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh. So you're not the fixer, you're the <em> client </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"I'm everything I need to be. I'm going in after it myself too, I just need people I can trust watching my back." </p><p> </p><p>Client, fixer and dirty work all in one package. Rogue certainly knew how to wow a lady. It certainly wasn't difficult watching her back, either, she's definitely not hard on the eyes. <em> Still </em>, something didn't feel completely right yet. There were some things she hadn't told me, not enough details for the nauseous feeling of wariness in my stomach to settle the hell down.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, so gimme deets." I suggested, sitting forward in my chair. </p><p> </p><p>"I need your word you're in." </p><p> </p><p>"And I need deets before I agree." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue judged me silently. The look in her eyes and slight twitch to her lips looked like a mix between impressed at my defiance, and annoyed I was being a pain in the ass. Still, she sighed, and nodded. </p><p> </p><p>"Fair." she decided, "Nobuharu is the most paranoid piece of shit you'll ever meet, thinks Arasaka is gonna jump him at every turn. So he doesn't ever leave his penthouse."</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, so we go to him. Done this song and dance before. What's your plan?" </p><p> </p><p>"Conveniently, he's throwing a party in that penthouse tomorrow night. I have a contact that can get us in, but I need backup in case shit goes down." </p><p> </p><p>"You expect it to?" </p><p> </p><p>"Not necessarily, but I'm always ready for the worst case." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh." Johnny broke his silence with the most lame contribution to the conversation. But there was more to his simple grunt of sarcastic agreement - something that sounded distinctly like a grudge. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue shot him a pinning look. "I haven't made the same mistake twice, Johnny. Things have changed since you… Left." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh." </p><p> </p><p>Ignoring him, I turned my attention back to Rogue. "So, party. Fancy set up, gettin' dolled up? We get into the penthouse, what then?" </p><p> </p><p>"Then we find him and steal the data. I don't have fuckin' future-sight, V, I can't tell you what'll happen when we're there. We just play it cool, find the data, get out. The end." </p><p> </p><p>"And the pay?" </p><p> </p><p>"Half now, half after. I recommend you don't do what Johnny suggests and blow it on booze, use it to buy equipment. Clothes to blend in." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted. "What, fancy corpo clothes shoppin'? I can do that." </p><p> </p><p>"Good. So I take it you're in?" </p><p> </p><p>I looked at Johnny, and he looked back. He didn't really have any right to refuse considering how zoned he'd been through this entire conversation, but I still didn't want to force him to work with Rogue if he didn't want to. He shrugged at me. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, we're in." I said. </p><p> </p><p>"Good." despite it, Rogue sounded relieved. Like she thought we might say no. She looked up at me and for a split second, her eyes flashed a bright blue. Suddenly my wallet was a lot thicker, padded out with a sexy new four thousand eddies. </p><p> </p><p>"This is only half?" I snorted, "I could get used to this." </p><p> </p><p>"You work with me, you work with the best. You get paid the <em> best </em>." </p><p> </p><p>I didn't doubt it, not when I had more money sitting in my account right then than I had at any given time in the last few months. Grinning at her, I got to my feet and offered her my hand. </p><p> </p><p>"I look forward to doin' biz with you, Rogue." I said, and she got to her feet in front of me. She shook my hand, and gave me a polite nod before sitting back down. </p><p> </p><p>I was acutely aware of how little Rogue had addressed any of that to Johnny. Sure, it could've been because he looked delirious as if he would've taken none of it in anyway, but some part of me knew the real reason. Well, a few guesses at it anyway - one, she was still not used to Johnny <em> not </em>being in my head. Two, she felt weird around him considering he died on her watch, came back in my head, made out with her in my body and god knows what, and then appeared in her bar beating the shit out of another patron. Or three, she was pissed at him for reasons I couldn't even begin to fathom. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe a complicated mix of all three. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright, well… We'll get outta your hair." I decided, getting to my feet. Didn't wanna choke on this atmosphere more than I had to. "It was good seein' ya again, Rogue." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah." she agreed, though it didn't exactly feel whole-hearted. Evidently I still wasn't completely off her shit list either. "I'll send you more deets about tomorrow night on the holo." </p><p> </p><p>"Alright."</p><p> </p><p>Speaking of, I needed to get one of those for Johnny. Nowadays, cell phones had been almost completely rolled out in place of a holo, and I didn't even know if the last time Johnny was on his own feet had them. I'd have to track down a relatively cheap, bug-free contract to jack into his head and hope he figured out how to use it. </p><p> </p><p>I offered Johnny a hand, but he got to his feet all on his own this time. For a second he just stood there, looking at Rogue - she wasn't looking back, just staring at the wall beside her instead. I wanted to grab my knife just to cut through this tension, but eventually Johnny did it for me by just walking out. Offering Rogue one last awkward farewell I went after him, tossing his hoodie over his shoulder as we headed back into the main area of After. He didn't even go back to the bar, just kept walking. I would've preferred to say goodbye to Claire too, but I didn't want him climbing behind the steering wheel while I wasn't looking. Not while he was both drunk and injured. </p><p> </p><p>We made it to the dark and dingy stairwell leading back to the lot before I tried to catch his attention. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, Johnny-" </p><p> </p><p>I'd been shoved against a wall in worse places, under worse circumstances, and with shitter kissers. Still, he was still drunk and hurt, so he was sloppy but greedy as ever as he pressed me into that wall and slipped his tongue between my lips. I didn't mind. His hands weren't wandering so he had no further intentions - here, at least, thank God. Fucking outside Afterlife in this grungy stairwell would probably make it onto the list of the worst places I'd have done it in. </p><p> </p><p>"You okay?" I asked when he pulled away, and hung his head. </p><p> </p><p>"Fine." he huffed. After a minute when I said nothing else, he sighed, and let it all out. "Pissed. Angry as fuck, I wanna - I wanna punch something." </p><p> </p><p>"You wanna talk about it?" </p><p> </p><p>He abruptly pulled away from me and began climbing the stairs. "No, V, I don't wanna fuckin' talk about it. I wanna punch something." </p><p> </p><p>So I let him throw a few at the back of Shit-heap. With his metal hand only, obviously, which was fine because while he preferred his right hand, his left did just as well - he'd told me that in his idea of pillow talk once, and all he'd gotten in response was hysterical laughter from me. To this day I had no idea why it tickled me so much, because it wasn't <em> that </em>funny. But my stomach still hurt at the mere memory of it. </p><p> </p><p>"Get in, we'll go grab a bite and then find somewhere to stay tonight." I suggested, and rounded to the driver's seat while he pulled the fresh dents out of the chassis. That arm of his was still mostly the original, fitted in what? 2015? Something like that. He severely needed an upgrade into today's technology; he'd have a field day with all the toys he could have in that arm if he could let go of the sentiment. Still, it was for the same reason I still wore his friend's dog tags round my neck and the bullet Dex had killed me with tied to my wrist. They weren't as important as a hand in a physical sense, but an emotional one. A spiritual one, Misty would have me believe. </p><p> </p><p>Usually Johnny would complain about not driving, but he just got into the seat beside me without a word. He leaned back and folded his feet up on the dash and stared aimlessly out the window as we rode around town. Like with Rogue, I could only make guesses as to what he was thinking, but with a prod I could feel whatever was troubling him. He felt conflicted, a little confused. Angry at himself - or Rogue? Me? Mostly he was tired. He'd been driving since early morning to get us here today, and getting stabbed and losing so much blood probably didn't help lighten his sour mood. </p><p> </p><p>We stopped by a drive-through at some burger place, and we ate in awkward silence in Shit-heap's cab. I didn't know what I had expected our return to Night City to be, but not this. I'd imagined something triumphant, relieving - coming home and taking back what I'd missed. But half of my attachment to this place came through <em> Johnny's </em>memory, not my own. Things he might've once enjoyed about this city were long gone. The only thing left were the people he knew, and apparent from his interaction with Rogue, even that was on shaky ground. </p><p> </p><p><em> "Most people I thought were my friends, they couldn't even stand to be in the same room with me." </em>he'd said to me once. I couldn't imagine a lonelier life. Surrounded by people, friends who wanted to like him, wanted the best for him, but couldn't suffer being in his presence. Screamed at by fans who swore they loved him but didn't even know the half of the shit he'd done, he who didn't deserve their loyalty. Every so often when I sleep, I'll dream of one of his memories - see a concert of his where the crowd screeched his name with devotion, and being up there under those blinding lights and singing for them would give him such a rush that for a while, he could forget who he really was. But then it'd fade in those lonely dressing rooms, where he'd sit on his own, high off his face. And the emptiness would just creep right back in. </p><p> </p><p>"V."</p><p> </p><p>"Huh?" I asked, suddenly and violently brought back to the cab. Even just thinking about the memory had felt so goddamn real. Hearing his voice and returning to reality instead of my - <em> his </em>- head came with such a wave of relief my throat choked up as I chewed through my next bite of the greasy burger in my hands. </p><p> </p><p>"You really wanna work with Rogue?" he asked, eyes narrowed to the sun as he rubbed the sauce outta his beard. It was getting longer now, he'd want to trim it soon. Same with his hair. Being back in a body reminded him that he had to upkeep his famous looks.. </p><p> </p><p>I shrugged. I chewed through the bite of my burger and put it down on the dash to sip from my straw. "Why not?" I asked. He looked at me with a look, as if I was meant to answer that myself. With a sigh, I shook my head and looked out at the view - we'd parked in a quiet-ish lot overlooking the river between Watson and the City Centre. It was nice enough with the sun setting, making the water glow orange instead of murky brown-green for once. </p><p> </p><p>"I don't know what went down between you and Rogue. Me and Rogue, whatever. When you were in my body. But it's not my business, either - whatever grudge Rogue has with <em> me </em>because of what you said-" </p><p> </p><p>"I didn't say anything to her." he said sharply, and huffed. "Fuck. I need a smoke." </p><p> </p><p>A few minutes later when he'd disappeared to the nearby corner store and returned with enough smokes to last him a whole two days - which wouldn't be the case if he shared them with me. Still, it placated him enough for him to relax a bit, and the air was hot enough outside to let us wind down the windows to ventilate the smoke outta the cab. </p><p> </p><p>"I didn't say anything to Rogue." he said again. I looked at him curiously - he hadn't ever told me more than <em> she got pissed and walked away </em>. "Everything was fine. We talked for a bit, and then we made out. Things were going good. You could've walked away from that sayin' you'd fucked the Queen of the Afterlife." </p><p> </p><p>My body maybe, sure. But I'd have no memory of it to brag about, even if I wanted to. </p><p> </p><p>"There's a but coming." I prompted. Any other time he would've made a lame joke about how asses don't do that part, but he just continued to stare out of the windscreen. </p><p> </p><p>"She left. Said she felt weird, said it wasn't me, <em> she'd </em> changed. Things had changed." he put the cigarette between his lips and left it there, folding his hands together on his stomach and breathing. I'd say he was almost peacefully meditating if one, I didn't know Johnny Silverhand, and two, if he wasn't breathing in lungs full of smoke. "She didn't explain what the fuck was up. She just ran."</p><p> </p><p>"Doesn't sound like Rogue to run from anything." </p><p> </p><p>"She doesn't. And that's why it pissed me off." </p><p> </p><p>I knew he didn't mean he was pissed because she left before he could get his dick wet. Well - me wet - I guess. Point being, for once, this was deeper for Johnny. Something was bugging him on an emotional level, and he hated having to deal with that. That's why Shit-heap got a beating, he needed some sort of outlet to take out his anger on, because Johnny Silverhand doesn't do words or feelings. That had slowly been changing, at least with me. When he was most vulnerable, when we were tired in bed, or when he was particularly upset about something, he was raw. Like he was a thread unravelling that knew he had to cauterise it to stop it, but was afraid of the flames. Confronting his feelings was the proper way to stop the pain, but he hated talking about them. I was like that once too, but then Jackie introduced me to Misty. At first I was convinced it was a load of mumbo jumbo bullshit, but I realised talking to her helped. I was less angry about <em> everything </em>. I felt happier, freer. </p><p> </p><p>"I feel weird with her." he continued, and huffed. "I've never felt weird with Rogue, if we'd fought we just got on with shit. But something's changed." he poked a finger at me, not exactly accusatory, but jokingly - he's smiling faintly. "It's your fuckin' fault. Makin' me think about this sorta shit." </p><p> </p><p>I grinned, and smacked his hand outta my face. "It's not healthy to bottle it up. Somethin's gotta give eventually, and I'd rather you talk about it and realise why you're angry than just… Let your anger out. You end up makin' stupid choices when you're upset and need an outlet." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, so wise. You and Ker should go into business together runnin' a fuckin' mental spa." </p><p> </p><p>The mention of a certain ex-bandmate of his gave me an idea. "You wanna meet up with Kerry at some point?" I asked, looking his way. "He'll be so happy to see you he'll piss himself. Or come. Either way it'll be funny as shit." </p><p> </p><p>"God, you're so right. Yeah, but not tonight. Gotta sleep." </p><p> </p><p>"Sure. I'll look up some places on the holo we can stay until we make enough bank to put a deposit down somewhere to actually live." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny had technically lived with me before. He'd basically lived in my apartment - and head - rent-free for months, and then we'd stayed here and there while we were on the run outside of Night City. Still, while my head was on that train of thought, I couldn't help but think it all felt very official, very big. Finding a place for the both of us to live in. Obviously we didn't have to live together, maybe he wanted to have his own place. But for now, until we had enough money to split wisely between us, it was better to pool it together. And he would be absolutely fucked if he had to manage his own money, we both knew it. He was content to let me handle the books. </p><p> </p><p>Still, we weren't dating. He'd never said it so neither had I. We had been together 24/7 for the past year almost, so that had to have some significance. Was it weird to actually <em> want </em>the guy who'd, until sixth months ago, been a ghost in my head, to ask me out? I know Johnny didn't really do that whole thing anyway, even from what I knew about his relationship with Rogue, he wasn't exactly peak romance. He could be charming, sure. But the most romantic he got would be holding your hand while he fucked you. Still, I took what I got - I was happy with where we stood and so was he. It didn't need to be anything more. </p><p> </p><p>I had to be somewhat smart with our funds. Combined with what we already had, Rogue's pay would set us up with something decent enough for a reasonable price for a few days, and if I needed to keep paying while we looked for a place, so be it. Plus, following up on Rogue’s suggestion, we should probably spend some of it on looking the part for this mission. Our sorry ragtag clothes and my busted up iron was probably a sorry sight to look at. Maybe that was why the “pay” was so good - either Rogue felt bad for us, or she was investing in us. Probably the latter.</p><p> </p><p>We’d sort it out in the morning. Johnny needed sleep for those stitches to do its thing, so I booked us a room in a nice - as nice as you can get on a budget in NC - hotel and we got set up there. Shit-heap looked <em> fully </em> out of place beside the other reasonable cars in the lot out of the window. I took a position looking out at the view, on standby if Johnny needed my help in the shower. If he called me for <em> anything </em>, it wouldn’t be to swallow his pride to ask me to help him with washing, I could say that much with certainty. </p><p> </p><p>Still, I wasn’t exactly expecting or wanting any action with him being injured and all. I wasn’t surprised when he went straight from under the towel to under the sheets of the bed - I offered him some cheap painkillers I had stashed in my bag, and then without so much as a peep, he unceremoniously conked out there and then. </p><p> </p><p>Jackie would be laughing his ass off right now if he could see this. The legendary Johnny Silverhand who he’d considered a fucking idol, drooling into his pillow. At least he looked comfy, which I couldn’t say about myself in the pokey chair I’d dumped my ass into. With the sun now sinking behind the skyscrapers on the horizon, I figured it wouldn’t be <em> too </em> early to catch some shut eye too. I’d slept at weirder times, after all. </p><p> </p><p>Wriggling out of my jeans and dumping my jacket on the floor, I got under the thin sheets beside Johnny. I know it wouldn’t make much difference in an hour or so; he was a blanket-hog. Still, he was warm, and my toes weren’t. If he was awake, he would’ve called me a cunt for pressing my cold feet against his legs. I’d made certain to leave my iron on the bedside table, laying Johnny’s on his side for him too. We hadn’t been attacked in the night since that first time Arasaka still had the resources to send goons after us, but I was not making that fucking mistake again. It had been terrifying, not only because I’d been shot, but because that meant Johnny was in charge. And him being in charge? </p><p> </p><p><em> Nightmarish </em> experience. Never again.</p><p> </p><p>I grinned into the pillow at the memory, as I stared at his sleeping face. He always assumed he was the one wearing the pants, calling the shots. That was how it had been back in his day; in Samurai, with whoever he worked with even if he was meant to be taking orders, not giving them. But lately, he’d been deferring to my judgement first before asking any questions so much that it was obvious his stint in my head had taught him a thing or two about pecking orders. I didn’t mind being in charge, and I also didn’t mind letting him take the reins, but it felt nice being so trusted to make the right decision. Sure, we were partners, and that meant we were equal - if he didn’t like something, fuck it. It was also too much pressure sometimes to be the only one to think for the two of us, and <em> occasionally </em>, he would offer sage suggestions. Like that time outside Arasaka tower, when I was paralysed, absolutely fucking terrified, couldn’t decide what I should do or who I should call and trust. And then he came up with the most batshit crazy idea I’d ever heard and I ran with it. Worst part was? It all worked out in the end.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuckin’ idiot.” I mumbled, voice barely even audible. I didn’t know if it was aimed at myself or Johnny, either. Maybe I should’ve made it plural. </p><p> </p><p>“Huh?”</p><p> </p><p>I snorted. He hadn’t even opened his eyes to sleepily grumble at me - like some primal sense had recognised an insult and immediately assumed someone was talking shit about him. I ruffled his hair, taking advantage of his daze, and he smacked aimlessly at my hand. </p><p> </p><p>“Wasn’t talkin’ to you.” I chuckled, rolling over onto my side to look at him. He cracked an eye open; the one that was pressed against the pillow stayed half-closed. He looked half-dead, sleepy and face drained of colour. “I’ll take ya to see Vik tomorrow, I’m not so sure about that gash.”</p><p> </p><p>He groaned and let his eyes close over. “Don’t need it. ‘Is fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh huh. I’m not exactly a professional, maybe I botched the job.”</p><p> </p><p>“V?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shuddup.” he slurred, grunting a little as he shifted from his front to his side. Turning his back on me wouldn’t make me quiet, but I knew what he was getting at because I did it a lot to him. Except that usually also meant I wanted to be the little spoon - Johnny was surprisingly a great cuddler. So while me rolling over usually screamed <em> come hug me </em> , his usually meant <em> fuck off </em>. I didn’t take offence, just snorted and tried to sleep myself.</p><p> </p><p>When I woke up, though, it was a different story. Somehow I’d managed to sleep through all his fidgeting for once, and woke up in a tangle of bedsheets and limbs. Thankfully his metal arm - which was way out of the blanket and probably <em> freezing - </em>was not the one that was wound around my middle and squeezing me up against his chest. I knew that even in sleep, me turning my back on him could not be resisted. </p><p> </p><p>The sky was breaking into streaks of pale blue-white, the first signs of morning. I certainly had no need to sleep so long, but it felt nice to have rested so heavily for so long without hearing a gunshot, or waking up in a sweat from a bad dream. Johnny on the other hand definitely needed it, and grunted with thorough displeasure when I tried to wriggle out of his grip. </p><p> </p><p>“Where are you going?” he grumbled sleepily, and his arm tensed when I tried again. Huffing a sigh, I at least managed to twist against him to face him, and his hair was an absolute mess; he always woke up with a worse bedhead than <em> me </em> and with my wild excuse for a mop, that was impressive. </p><p> </p><p>“I wanted to check your stitches,” I said, pushing lightly at his shoulder. Giving in, he rolled over to his back, folding his arm beneath his head and effectively freeing me. Sure enough, the thread was exactly what I’d thought it was, and I’d have to thank Claire because that sort of fast-acting stuff didn’t come cheap. Where last night there had been a horrid, open wound, was now an ugly pink line. It was still slightly sore to touch, helpfully proven by Johnny when I prodded it lightly. Still, it was better than waiting weeks for it to heal up on its own, so I dug my knife out of the jeans abandoned on the floor, and began the careful process of slicing through the tough twine that helped mend his skin back together. </p><p> </p><p>“You feelin’ okay, other than this?” I asked. Mostly, I was referring to our conversation in the truck yesterday, the stuff a bit deeper than this cut had gone. He spared me a quick glance, then looked back to the ceiling. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine.” he said dismissively. I waited silently to give him a chance to elaborate, so he huffed and did. “Not as pissed at Rogue. And if she’s as good a fixer as everyone makes her out to be these days, then workin’ with her’s a good place to start.”</p><p> </p><p>Our plan had always been vague and simple. Run until we didn’t have to anymore and then find work somewhere; me being a merc, the only life I’d ever known, my mind was set on returning to my old life. Johnny had never expressed an interest in doing so, but I really was curious. So as I eased the last stitch out of his skin, I teased him.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure you don’t want me to call all your buddies and reform Samurai?” </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t react, and it was sorta disappointing. Was hoping he’d take the bait and either laugh or agree; instead he shrugged, strangely at peace with the situation.</p><p> </p><p>“Wouldn’t be the same.” he said, and turned his head down to look at me when I set the knife down on the bedside table. Sighing softly, I lied down with him, resting my chin on the arms I folded over his chest. He looked at me with a blank-sorta look, eyes still weary from sleep. </p><p> </p><p>“But don’t you…” I wet my lips and tried to find a good way to phrase this without it looking like I wanted to ditch him. “Don’t you want anything? This whole time we’ve just been doing what I said we would, and it’s not just my body anymore. You can have anything you want now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anything, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>I shouldn’t have been surprised really that a stupid suggestive smile snuck onto his face. Expertly he dodged my question by distracting me like he always did when conversations took a turn that was too heavy. We tumbled about in bed until the sun was up in the sky, by which point I’d completely forgotten about the question anyway. </p><p> </p><p>After a quick shower, I slipped back into my old worn jeans and t-shirt, so eager to get out and buy new clothes that I had to pester Johnny multiple times to get out of bed and get dressed. He tried the same tactic as earlier, luring me back into those sheets, but I stood my ground and threatened to go without him and buy him something ridiculous to wear for the job tonight. Taking his sweet time, he got up and dressed, grumbling incoherently as I combed my fingers through the bird’s nest that was his hair. We looked like a pair of disheveled delinquents, but that was okay. We’d go and buy decent clothes before we went shopping for the fancy things - else we’d get thrown out of their high-class stores immediately.</p><p> </p><p>“You know I fuckin’ hate shoppin’, right?” Johnny asked as I locked the hotel room behind us. Nothing of ours was left in there, but still - it felt like our little safe haven for now, and I didn’t want to lose that. </p><p> </p><p>“Too bad.” I stuck my tongue out at him as we made our way downstairs and out into the parking lot. “Be a good boy while I buy my clothes and my pretty shoes, and I’ll treat you when we go to 2nd Amendment.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you know how much I hate bein’ a good boy, but…” he shot me a smirk as he gave Shit-heap an affectionate pat. As affectionate as two slaps to the side of its chassis can get, but it’s better than him punching dents into it. “You make a good case.”</p><p> </p><p>“I always do. Now get in.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, if you enjoyed any little kudo or comment you throw my way feeds the joy of this humble writer!</p><p>If you want to scream with me about Johnny or Cyberpunk, come find me on tumblr under <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Prelude of Doot Doots</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There's quite few music references toward the end of the chapter (mostly Samurai songs) so if you want extra immersion, turn em up!</p><p>I hope you all enjoy, this one unfortunately took me a little longer cuz I kept getting stumped.</p><p>Also, I'll be going back to the first 2 chapters just to add a little date/time stamp at the beginning of the chapter which isn't world-changing, but should've been there anyway!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>FEBRUARY 6TH, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p><b>NIGHT CITY / City Centre, Corporate Plaza :: <em>Paisley Hotel </em>… </b> <b>5:47PM</b></p><p> </p><p>After a long day of preparation - buying clothes for day to day biz and for tonight's fancy corpo get together, as well as taking our sweet time restocking our mini armory we were starting to build under the seats in Shit-heap - we got more info from Rogue. <em> I </em> did, really, and chatted away to Johnny about it while we chowed down on some cheap Japanese street food. At least this time while talking about the job, Johnny was one, completely conscious, and two, not drunk. So everything I said he heard at least and when he looked more interested in his noodles than me, I clicked my fingers directly in his face. It did <em> wonders </em>to piss him off, and get his attention. </p><p> </p><p>By the time night fell, we were ready to meet up with Rogue. She'd given us an address of some fancy hotel in the City Centre, a far reach from mine and Johnny's usual haunt, but they let us in all the same when he combed back his hair to look somewhat dignified and we made it clear we had nicer, fancier clothes to change into. Rogue had already prepped a room, and it was there that we got into those tight-ass corpo clothes we'd gotten earlier. Between us, we realised we actually looked the part, and I had to give it to Johnny - his rough bad boy look was one thing, but he definitely cleaned up nice. </p><p> </p><p>A sudden click behind us made us tense - we shared a glance, a knowing one, and quickly turned away from the window to grasp at the iron we'd left on the table behind us. Armed with his trusty Malorian Arms, Johnny crept towards the door, and after a quick check through its peephole, lowered his iron. I relaxed as the door slid open, and a familiar figure waltzed on through, joining us in the hotel room. </p><p> </p><p>"Gotta say," Rogue said, in a tone that sounded relievingly satisfied, "You two actually look like you belong at somethin' like this. Well done, V. You've made Johnny look like somethin' other than a crackhead." </p><p> </p><p>"Now that's uncalled for." Johnny feigned offence, but he was smiling despite it. As the door slid shut once more behind Rogue, he crossed the room to where a mirror hung off the wall, tilting his head this way and that to see if his hair was stuck down properly in place. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, but gotta give credit where credit's due. Johnny hides that handsome face under his hair all the time." I said with a shrug, and turned attentively to Rogue. "You look good." </p><p> </p><p>She rocked her usual confidence with a two-piece suit, tight, flattering trousers and a firm blazer that dipped low over her chest to show she wore nothing beneath. I was kinda pissed to see it, only because the thought hadn't crossed my mind to wear a suit too. Things would get interesting if I had to do my usual back and forth in this dress, but at least I felt sufficiently sexy. </p><p> </p><p>That was the most important thing, right? I definitely wasn't about to go asking Rogue. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks. I like the dress." she replied, and that was the closest I'd ever gotten to girl talk outta Rogue aside from when she'd bitch about Johnny's shitty dating tactics. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks." </p><p> </p><p>"Now, down to business. Johnny?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, comin'." </p><p> </p><p>He came to join us at the table as Rogue sat before it, tapping away at the control pad ingrained in it before jacking in. I spared him one more glance - whatever product he'd found was doing wonders at keeping that mop of hair at bay, tucked back in one clean swoop behind his ears. It was absolutely a good look, but somehow I found myself wanting to shove my hand through it and mess it all up. Was it spite, a desire to piss him off? A longing for the familiar? Or just my own preferences talking? </p><p> </p><p>Either one, no one could say Johnny hadn't pulled out all the stops to look the part. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright, so," Rogue nodded and turned our attention to the tank, which glazed over with a screen at the touch of a few buttons under her hand. "There are your identities." </p><p> </p><p>"Identities?" I echoed, quirking a brow. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, yeah. You didn't think you were gonna come to this as yourselves, right?" </p><p> </p><p>Of course the thought had crossed my mind, same as how Jackie had always longed to do undercover missions, all sneaky like. Pretend to be all stealthy and suave like those dumb action movies he loved - of course, between the two of us, we always fucked up and walked out of every job having ended a firefight. </p><p> </p><p>"Robert." Johnny said dryly. Curiously I looked up at him to find him shooting daggers at the back of Rogue's head. "Really? Fuckin' <em> Robert </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>Rogue was wearing a kind of self-satisfied smirk, like there was a joke I was missing. "Just be glad I didn't make your surname Linder." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck you." </p><p> </p><p>Who the fuck was Robert Linder? If I was putting the pieces together right, anyhow - was he some guy they knew? Maybe once knew? Did Johnny predictably hate his guts like ninety percent of the people in his life? Unfortunately neither of them seemed willing to share, so I was left in lame silence to study the fake ID Rogue had forged. </p><p> </p><p>My name was to be Vicky Banks. Close, but not close enough. Considering I'd never told Rogue what V actually stood for - nor Johnny for that matter - it was a reasonable guess. Wrong, though. But an okay guess. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, I'm… An interior designer who does floristry for fun?" I choked a laugh, and looked at Rogue incredulously. "I hope I'm not expected to talk to anyone about myself, goddamn. I sound boring as fuck." </p><p> </p><p>"Speak for yourself," Johnny said, unimpressed, "A stock broker who spends his free time painting. Seriously, what the fuck is this, Rogue?" </p><p> </p><p>"Give me a break, they were the best IDs I could scavenge on short notice." she huffed, but shot me a sly little smile. "And a bit of fun." </p><p> </p><p>"And is there a reason why me and Johnny have the same surname?" </p><p> </p><p>"Rogue…" Johnny groaned. I could imagine what it meant but I wanted to hear her have to say it. I can imagine it'll make it even funnier if she did. </p><p> </p><p>She smiled at me. "Well obviously, you and Robert over there are a happily married couple of three years. No kids yet, but you're afraid Rob might be infertile." </p><p> </p><p>"Seriously, go fuck yourself. Like, with a baseball bat filled with nails or something. Fuck you." </p><p> </p><p>I couldn't help but snort with delighted laughter. Turning his back on us, Johnny sank down to sit on the edge of the bed, finding himself a fresh cigarette to smoke out of his case. </p><p> </p><p>"Could've been worse." Rogue shrugged dismissively, "I could've made myself Vicky." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck. Fuckin' kill me. Do it, put a gun to my head, and pull the trigger." </p><p> </p><p>"Would pretending to be my adorin' husband for one night really be that bad?" I asked, fluttering my lashes at his back. He grunted, and I saw the smoke rise past his hunched shoulders. "Fine, fuck you too then, goddamn. Anythin' else we should know, Rogue?" </p><p> </p><p>She nodded. "My name is Elaine Clarke, and I work for Militech. I'm a buyer interested in the data Nobuharu is auctioning. I'll try to arrange a private meeting where we can <em> negotiate </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"Cool. And you want us to…?" </p><p> </p><p>"Mingle, play it cool. Keep an eye out for Nobuharu and watch the door when I meet with him. If things go smoothly, it'll be in and out with time to taste their fancy corpo drinks." </p><p> </p><p>She showed us a picture of our target. Asian guy in his late-forties, maybe, but it was always hard to say considering most corpos could afford intense anti-aging. There was very little black still clinging to his grey roots though, a sure sign that not all things were golden - either stress or missing a few treatment sessions on the ol' wig. He looked tired as shit. I'd almost feel bad for planning to steal from him if he wasn't ex-Arasaka, and a coward at that. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, got his face.” I said, getting to my feet. “Johnny, take a look. Rogue can’t send you his mugshot with your shitty early 2000s OS.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck you.” he grumbled again, but turned to stare at the screen for a few seconds. Then when he was done, he got to his feet, and ground out his cigarette in the ashtray upon the table. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue jacked out, and sat patiently on the couch while we readied ourselves. Unfortunately this dress left little to the imagination, so it would’ve been tough to explain the gun-shaped thing extruding underneath it. Thankfully the skirt was flowy enough to let me strap things to my legs, so I gathered up one side at a time to click a handgun and a nice, sharp knife in place. I noticed both Johnny and Rogue shooting looks at me to watch while I did, and I stuck my tongue out charmingly at them every time. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, I’m ready. Not gonna get more armed than this.” I lamented, nodding at Johnny. “What about you?” </p><p> </p><p>He pulled aside the lapel of his suit jacket to show off the Malorian Arms 3516 holstered to the side of his chest, the straps barely visible against the dark red-almost maroon of his shirt when he buttoned it back up. Covered by the jacket was a belt armed with more, smaller guns, and plenty of ammo. Goddamn, I was jealous. Why hadn’t <em> I </em> worn a suit too? </p><p> </p><p>“Wait.” Rogue called as Johnny buttoned his jacket back together. I thought she’d have an issue with him, but she was looking directly at me. “You’re not going out there with your hair like that, are you?”</p><p> </p><p>I blinked. Sure, I hadn’t really noticed until now that she had her own hair pinned up in some sort of fancy updo, and the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind to do something with mine. I shrugged, and Rogue groaned to the ceiling before beckoning me over. </p><p> </p><p>Scrap what I said earlier about her compliment being the closest thing to anything girly with Rogue - her braiding my hair and pinning it up was the new number one on my rankings. I might have to start a secret diary, confessing my big girl crush and listing every time Rogue did something slightly nice for me. </p><p> </p><p>“Better.” she decided when she was done, and I glanced at my reflection in the mirror - when was the last time I’d actually even bothered to tie up this pink mop of hair? Rogue had pinned it up in a sort of graceful bun whose bottom barely even graced the nape of my neck. Quite impressive she’d managed to do anything vaguely nice with it without any gardening tools.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks. Have you ever thought about going into the hairstyling business?”</p><p> </p><p>She grunted with a grin and rolled her eyes. At the very least, it seemed like I was making slow progress getting back into her good books after - <em> whatever </em> I did to get myself thrown in the dog house. Then she headed for the door, and dutifully, Johnny and I wordlessly followed. Before it even opened, she stopped us, giving us both a stern look.</p><p> </p><p>“From the second we step out of this door, we are <em> not </em> who we know we are.” she instructed with a fierce tone that did wonders to both terrify me and turn me on. She poked a finger at Johnny, “Robert,” then me, “Vicky,” then herself, “Elaine. Don’t fuck this up, Johnny.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who’s Johnny?” he asked. It shouldn’t have got me, but I snorted. Delighted with himself, he turned to me with a dumb little smirk, and held out his arm to me. “Well then, shall we, <em> wife </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>I had to take a second to reign in my amusement, and when finally the urge to laugh died down, I linked my arm through his. “Calling me wife is pretty shit, y’know.” I said, “We really gotta sell it. Cheesy pet names, you first - shoot.”</p><p> </p><p>“I will if you keep talking. With a bullet in my fuckin’ brain.”</p><p> </p><p>“You two are useless.” Rogue grumbled as she turned to open the door. “Nobuharu’s penthouse is only a short elevator ride away, so you better be the most lovey-fuckin’-dovey couple I’ve ever seen by the time it’s over.”</p><p> </p><p>As we stepped out into the quiet hotel corridor, I lowered my voice. “I wouldn’t recommend that, y’know.” I said softly, leaning towards Johnny. “The whole shootin’ yourself in the head thing. Hurts like shit.”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop <em> swearing </em>.” Rogue hissed. “And pronounce things properly, for fuck’s sake. You’re meant to be high-class corpos.”</p><p> </p><p>Johnny’s jaw clenched. “How come you get to swear?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m allowed to swear because it’s my fuckin’ op. Shut up, Johnny.”</p><p> </p><p>I cleared my throat just as we came upon a staff member of the hotel, who offered us a polite head-bow as we went. Breathing out through my nose, I lifted my chin up as we passed - remembering how Elizabeth Peralez had handled herself in front of me in her fancy-ass apartment before she very swiftly cut ties with me for doing the right fucking thing and telling her husband the truth. I’d acted before, plenty of times in different gigs. Pretending to be a corpo couldn’t be <em> too </em> hard, so long as Johnny played along. I corrected his slumped posture to be straighter as he walked, and despite the fire in his eyes at me, he fell into step quite easily with it. Combined with his usual casual swagger, he perfectly fit the part of a cocky corpo who thought no one could ever so much as breathe his air. </p><p> </p><p>“Dear.” Johnny said abruptly when we were in the seclusion elevator. Having thought he was talking about the animal at first, I shot him a look. He shrugged at me. “Pet names. You got better?”</p><p> </p><p>“If I ever hear you say that again, I will throw up. On you.” I said quickly and bluntly. Rogue snorted, but let her smile drop after a second or two - returning perfectly to character. “Cringe contest incomin’ - whoever thinks of the cheesiest nickname by the end of the night doesn’t have to take care of laundry for a month.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” he said with a breathy laugh. “Well, I can’t lose then. Don’t wanna wear the same clothes for a month straight.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t get out of it by not doing it! That’s not how it fuckin’ works.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Swearing. </em>” Rogue reminded. The pair of us cleared our throats, and I put on a charming smile.</p><p> </p><p>Petting at his arm, I bumped my hip into Johnny’s. “Good luck, honey. Looking forward to seeing how your upcoming battle with the laundromat goes.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t wait until this is over and you suddenly forget the letter g exists again.” he grumbled.</p><p> </p><p>The elevator doors dinged open. We were let out into an already bustling penthouse - other guests, dozens of glammed up corpos all clustered into one space, mingling and drinking. I could <em> feel </em> the plastic compliments and flimsy laughs just smoking up the air worse than Johnny in a box. Suddenly, it actually felt relieving to have a hold on Johnny’s arm; he and Rogue being in sight grounded me and reminded me that hey, I was not trapped in a corpo nightmare alone. I’d have to keep a close eye on Johnny though; he was too prone to just lashing out with his anger to be trusted to play his part perfectly. I knew why Rogue had wanted him along, but it was still concerning because we both knew what he was like. One too many corpos insulting him with riddles and his head would explode on the spot.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, keep it cool." Rogue said softly, forcing a polite smile onto her lips. "Mingle, be nice. Remember who you are. And if you have to remember why you're putting up with this, just imagine you're about to kick Arasaka in the balls." </p><p> </p><p>"I can do that." Johnny wickedly grinned, but a little look from both me and Rogue tamed it out a bit. </p><p> </p><p>Mingling came surprisingly easily when I tried to imagine the clowns in suits were just strangers in a bar. Of course, I never treated them like it, but I applied the same logic; listen to them talk for a bit, pretend I was interested and asked a fresh question, rinse and repeat. I would <em> never </em>be so nice or so patient in a bar, and I'd only stay to talk to someone if they were a particularly good drinking buddy with great stories. Unfortunately that happened on fewer occasions than the amount that guys with crazy spooky chrome in their faces and unflattering tattoos on their skulls tried to flirt with me. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny was struggling. He kept zoning hard out of every conversation, looking longingly at the wall of glass at the other end of the penthouse, where Night City glowed below. I would've much rather been out on the streets too, taking on goons with inflated egos that made their heads all the easier targets for my sniper. Still, we'd promised to help Rogue, who was off somewhere trying to charm her way into Noruharu's private office. So after carefully anunciating my goodbyes, I pulled Johnny through to the window where we could catch our breath. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, I hate this." he breathed, rubbing at his forehead, "Why can't we just shoot all these fuckers and take what we want?" </p><p> </p><p>"Because that's illegal, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>"Like you care. You'd do anything for eddies." </p><p> </p><p>"You're such a dick, dear." I gave him a sweetly smile. </p><p> </p><p>He forced a smarmy one onto his lips. "And you're a bitch, honey." he went to reach into his pocket to grab his smokes case, but let out a soft noise of annoyance and let his hand drop back to his side when he saw my glare. "Come on, how would they know?" </p><p> </p><p>"Uh, they'd see it? Smell it?" I said plainly, "I'm honestly shocked your cologne's managing to cover up how much you stink of it already." </p><p> </p><p>"Bitch." </p><p> </p><p>"Dick." </p><p> </p><p>Somewhere in the back of my head, a voice was shouting at me, much like Rogue would if she could hear us right now. We definitely weren't doing her any favours by standing in a corner and having a pissing contest. So, with the promise of some alcohol, I took his arm and we returned to the fold, trying our hardest to avoid conversations where we could. I even convinced him to start smiling at me every so often like a husband madly in love. It was very difficult not to laugh every time. </p><p> </p><p>"So, are you going to tell me, snookums?" I asked, elbowing him lightly with the arm hooked under his. It would've backfired if I would've been on his other side, because I wouldn't have squished him but his holster. With the dryest look I'd ever seen on his face, he looked down at me. He would have to try harder to win. "Who's this Robert Linder fellow, anyway?" </p><p> </p><p>Johnny ran his tongue over his teeth and found something else to look at. "You don't already know?" he grumbled, and then quickly added a lame, "Pumpkin." </p><p> </p><p>"Ew, oh god, that one was gross. Well done." I said and his lips twitched, but he trained to maintain his grumpy look. "Come <em> on </em>. An old rival, an ex-flame of Rogue's?" </p><p> </p><p>"Somethin' like that." </p><p> </p><p>Ooh, yes! Perfect - any guy that stood between Johnny and what he wanted was the absolute greatest bait to piss him off. Usually because he'd fall for it, hook line and sinker. With a smile I realised was too evil - and quickly reigned it in - I looked up at him with a queried look.</p><p> </p><p>"Go on then, details." I pressed. He looked down at me as if he expected me to have let it go already, as if I would've already knew the answer he'd refused me. "What? I legit don't know who he is." </p><p> </p><p>Exasperated, Johnny decided watching the corpos around us mingle and chit-chat was more interesting than my face. "I'll tell you later, when we're out of this hell-hole. Is that okay with you, princess?" </p><p> </p><p>I learned close. "You're startin' to take the piss with the names now, I actually will be sick soon." I whispered, and it got a very undignified snort from him that got some funny looks from the pretentious corpos around us. </p><p> </p><p>If not for a distraction, I would've happily continued to poke fun at him until he just spat it out. I was just more curious now more than ever as to who this Linder guy was, but more important things were kicking into gear. People started clapping and before I could even wonder why, I realised the fuss was being made about a familiar-looking Asian guy coming out onto the second-floor balcony overlooking the party. </p><p> </p><p>"Rogue," I said quickly and quietly into my holo, "Eyes on Nobuharu."</p><p> </p><p>"I see him." came her response, whispered too. "I'm gonna try get him. See the door behind him?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah?" </p><p> </p><p>"That's his office. If he doesn't have the data on him, it'll be in there. See if you can get inside." </p><p> </p><p>"On it." I looked up at Johnny, whose eyes - now alert - were dancing about after our target. The corpos around us were descending on him like flies on crap as he came down the spiral staircase to greet his guests. Paranoid, my ass. This guy was reveling in the attention. "Johnny, stay out here and keep an eye on everythin'. I'm gonna try to get into the office." </p><p> </p><p>"Sure." he said absently, and I left him behind to slip away while the party was distracted. </p><p> </p><p>Kira Nobuharu at the very least had decent taste. I disappeared down a slim corridor lined with a black rug edged with rectangles of gold, and pretty albeit abstract paintings hung from the walls. Once I would've called this sorta thing pompous bullshit, but being friends with Misty had slowly changed that. Plus, after being stuck with Johnny's interpretation of art - its value to the common man, its ideals - all that stuck in my head; he eventually rubbed off on me. Still somehow could never pick up his guitar skills or just anything valuable, though. Just his lectures about injustice and all the lyrics to <em> Black Dog </em>. </p><p> </p><p>It had made it my favourite Samurai song, if only because I realised Johnny sung more than Kerry in that one. His singing voice was nice to listen to, despite the chorus yelling - I could imagine it would be quite soothing if ever I demanded a bedtime lullaby. </p><p> </p><p>There were, as I'd guessed, another set of stairs around back. Fancy penthouses this big always had too many stairs to too many places. Despite my want to hurry, I had to take even and paced steps to avoid my heels making too much noise. If someone walked out on me holding my shoes in my hands to sneak better, I'd look like I was doing exactly what I was doing. This way, if someone found me, I'd have the good ol', "I needed the bathroom," excuse. </p><p> </p><p>I made it up the stairs without having to need it though. Nobuharu's office was protected on one side by glass, which wasn't ideal for sneaking - the same wall faced out over the party I could hear chattering away from here. Strangely for a paranoid man, the room had access via two seperate doors, but I wasn't about to complain. Using the back entrance, I looked both ways up and down the corridor before prying back the cover of the terminal and jacking in. After a second of mind games, the door beeped happily, and I gained access. </p><p> </p><p>The office was nice, sleek. Black, shiny furniture consisting of a preem desk, some shelves behind containing the relics of the past - books. Johnny loved those. The lamp in the corner was still on, casting an orange glow about the space that got caught up with the cold light from outside the windows. Still, it was dark enough to remain stealthy, and I took my wins where I could get them. Sinking into the chair behind his desk, I booted up Nobuharu's computer. </p><p> </p><p>He wouldn't be so stupid as to leave valuable information on his desktop, but it was as good a place as any to start searching. </p><p> </p><p>A quick scan of his computer didn't reveal anything interesting aside from the fact the guy had very unique porn interests. Seriously, he could've closed the tab. Closing it myself would look suspicious though, so I minimised it so I didn't have to look at… Whatever that was. I wasn't one to shame and name but even I had things I thought were odd. Nobuharu suddenly became one of them. </p><p> </p><p>Regardless, I kept digging. Nosing through deep structures in his documents, but finding they only led to legitimate business information and non-Arasaka branded gold dust. I kept an eye on the clock in the corner of the screen, counting every second I was missing. If anyone had been paying attention to me and Johnny all evening - especially those guys who were <em> definitely </em>not guards standing in very particular posts the whole time - they'd notice I was gone soon. I'd been glued to Johnny's side all night like the dutiful little wife I'd been playing. </p><p> </p><p>When nothing came up in my searches of his computer, I returned it to how it was when I found it, turning off the montior so I didn't have to look at it. I went to the drawers of his desk next, not really sure what I was looking for. A shard. Old school discs maybe, even older - tapes? I'd never seen one in my life, but Johnny insisted they were the shit. Vinyls too, CDs were less good. Then came along MP3 players and streaming services, and the peak of music had reached its lowest low. Or at the very least that's what he told me, immediately before telling me the digital age of music only reached its peak again after Samurai's first album drop shook the world. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe he was a <em> little </em>biased and a bit too heated about the whole thing.</p><p> </p><p>It was useless thinking about, because Arasaka would never store their info on outdated software. Nor did searching his desk reveal anything. No loose shards that rattled as I gave the drawer a wriggle, not even scraps of paper. Completely empty, and useless. I even tried picking at the lining on the inside corners, hoping it might peel up and reveal hidden compartments, but all I managed was chipping my ruby nail polish.</p><p> </p><p>Heaving a sigh, I got up, and spun the chair to the position I thought I found it in. One last sweep, that was all I had time for. When I came up empty-handed, I figured I'd risked enough and left the office. The corridor was quiet, but I could still hear the faint bubble of noise downstairs. Breathing softly, my heart running a little quicker than it normally would, I went back the way I came and down the stairs. I'd have to go back to find Johnny, tell Rogue Nobuharu had to have the data on him. Maybe it was on a chip in his goddamn head - wouldn't be surprised if he was as paranoid as she'd made him out to seem. </p><p> </p><p>I got to the bottom of the stairs and jumped. A man was standing there waiting for me, hands clasped neatly in front of him. Decked out in a crisp, black pinstripe suit, gaze firm and narrowed as he watched me take the final stair and stop in front of him. He was easily a head and a half taller than me. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm so sorry, I think I got a little turned around." I offered him a sweet smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I was pulling all the demure tricks in the book I'd seen in old, dumb movies, pressing my free hand against my chest. I was harmless, and I'd make him see it. At least for now. </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh." he said dryly, and side stepped in front of me when I tried to go past. His eyes flashed down to my hand, and I quickly dropped it. Did he see the chip? Surely he didn't think anything of it. "Wait right here please, ma'am." </p><p> </p><p><em> Ma'am? </em>Goddamn, didn't realise I'd gone that far to not even be called Miss. Still, I couldn't stop the uptick in my pulse as I waited, polite and patient. The guy started talking, not to me - holo, I guessed. Suddenly I was struck with regret. I should've just took him out there and then when he first stopped me, and now all his buddies knew I was here. </p><p> </p><p>"Yes, sir. No, sir. Of course." </p><p> </p><p>I nearly rolled my eyes. <em> Yes, sir, let me lick your asshole next. </em> Corpo bodyguards were always the same. Did they think it was sunny where they were, just a few pegs higher than the rest of us? Was his pocket a <em> bit </em> heavier with eddies by the end of a shift than mine? Did he get a kick out of standing around and dealing with bullshit from people with egos the size of blimps? </p><p> </p><p>"I really don't mean any trouble, I only needed the bathroom." I tried, but he wasn't interested in any excuse I could give now. He eyed me out of the corner of his eyes and his gaze kept me pinned on my spot. My hands fidgeted, and I almost went to grab him before a distant noise caught my attention. </p><p> </p><p>A clank. Then another, big, resounding clangs of metal on marble. I knew that noise, and it made me sick. A flash of pain wracked through my left arm, a memory worming its way to my attention in a flash. Suddenly I grasped at it and found flesh, not dented metal, but it did nothing to help expel the breath stuck in my throat. My heart was pounding now, thumping against my ribcage, deafening my ears. When I finally saw him round the corner, I was paralysed still. </p><p> </p><p>"You can go." he said to the man in the suit, who now looked like a dwarf compared to the cyborg beside him. I almost begged him not to, but he was gone before I could even find a way to open my mouth. </p><p> </p><p>Adam Smasher towered over me like a scraper to a car. The right-hand side of his face was the only flesh-coloured thing left - a recent addition was the metal plates on the left. <em> The left where I'd put a bullet in him. </em>Oh, and he remembered. He remembered clearer than anything; clearer than he might've even remembered his victory that day years ago when he shot Johnny down from that chopper. There was something wicked in his eyes when he looked down at me, and it was at that moment I realised something. </p><p> </p><p>I had to fucking do something. </p><p> </p><p>My pistol was in my hand before I could blink, and my first shot ended up in the ceiling. Smasher pushed aside my iron like it was nothing, and grabbed ahold of my wrist in a tight clamp of a grip. The handgun clattered to the floor, and if my ears weren't ringing with the race of my panicked heart, I might've realised the party had gone quiet after that gunshot. By that point, though, my biggest concern was the shards of glass tearing through my dress and skin both. Smasher had tossed me that hard into the wall, I'd brought down a framed artwork with me. The hail of glass was never going to stop me, though, and despite the spinning of my head, I saw my gun in tunnel vision and went for it. </p><p> </p><p>"Dumb fuckin' bitch." </p><p> </p><p>A cry tore from me without me even letting it - cold metal grasped at my scalp, tearing at my hair, hauling me to my stumbling feet. Suddenly, his face was too close for comfort. Who was I kidding? His face was too close for comfort from miles away. </p><p> </p><p>"You thought you could kill me, huh?" he snarled, "You thought you could <em> shoot me </em>? You thought I'd fuckin' die?" </p><p> </p><p>"I definitely hoped so." I spat, and a stupid grin broke out across my face when my spit got his chrome cheek. He didn't even feel it, though, and didn't bother to wipe it off. It dribbled down his face like a gross little tear. </p><p> </p><p>"You're gonna regret that. You're gonna regret even fuckin' breathin', cunt." </p><p> </p><p>"If I had an Eddie for every-" </p><p> </p><p>The air was knocked out of me. Good ol' Adam loved to throw me at walls. Still, the impact of it sent aches through my body, and my sudden gasp for air kicked in a panic mode. Usually, it would take a whole lotta patience and focus to use it, but I didn't have the time. It was like a sixth sense booted up for me, like an instinct. I reached out to Johnny, without a word, without a thought. Just a feeling. </p><p> </p><p>Just my absolute fucking rage. </p><p> </p><p>I heard him before I saw him. The unique sound of the Malorian Arms 3516 firing, the case of the bullet clanging off Smasher's body and rolling around on the floor next to me. It was still hot when it hit the marble, a little sizzle of smoke rising in its wake. Four more shots rang - he only had one shot left before he had to reload, and Smasher wouldn't give him that chance. Cleverly, he stopped, and I realised I had to do something to help. When I managed to get my head to stop spinning, I stumbled up against the wall, and scoured the room for my iron. It was abandoned on the floor, and with Johnny serving as a distraction - a good and welcomed one for once - Smasher was too busy to notice me slipping behind him to grab it. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny fuckin' Silverhand." Smasher said lowly, and his voice even held a hint of respect; he and Johnny seemed, at this point, keeping a tally over who'd <em> died </em>the most. "Didn't I kill you already?" </p><p> </p><p>"I could say the same to you, fuckhead." Johnny was standing firm, gun in both hands aimed directly for Smasher's head. He wasn't wrong, either; when I'd taken on Smasher in Arasaka Tower, I'd popped one of Misty's pill just before. About halfway through I started moving in ways I didn't, taking shots I would've thought were too risky, making split-second decisions in the last-possible second and somehow finding it worked out fine. As if I was carrying some unreasonable good luck, the sort a smarmy bastard like Johnny would insist on having. We'd put that bullet in Adam Smasher's head together. Both of our fingers had been on that trigger. </p><p> </p><p>"You're lookin' good for a corpse." Smasher mused, looking him up and down. </p><p> </p><p>"Really can't say the same." </p><p> </p><p>The cyborg chuckled, doing a quick one over at his own body, shrugging when all he found was metal. "Oh, you mean all this?" he asked dismissively - it didn't occur to me that he thought Johnny hadn't seen him since 2023. At the time I just assumed he was taking the chance to boast about his chrome. Not like anyone in their right minds would wanna look like him. Aside from maybe Maelstrom. "Yeah, I think I look pretty good, don't you? Your little bitch girlfriend behind me made me finally take the step I needed to on the last bit of useless flesh I've got up here." </p><p> </p><p>Smasher put a finger from each hand against his each temple, a soft <em> clang </em>of metal sounding as his metal finger hit his metal head. </p><p> </p><p>I saw it from here - Johnny's finger twitching on his trigger. But he wouldn't have time to reload before Smasher got to him. I gave him the tiniest of nods, and the delicious crack of the Malorian firing rang and through the air. Unfortunately I didn't get to savour it for long, because I started firing too; nonstop, unloading as many bullets as my cartridge held into Smasher's back. It worked. Got his attention, drew him away from Johnny long enough for him to reach into his belt, knock out the old cartridge with a twirl of his wrist, and lock the new one in place to fire again. It made no difference to Smasher who he went for first - he stomped towards us all menacing-like, but we both knew he could catch up to us in a second if we ran. So as I backed off, the distance between himself and me grew larger, yet the one between him and Johnny was shrinking. Always cocky - coming closer as he fired each round. </p><p> </p><p>Smasher had a thing for throwing people at walls, but <em> through </em>walls was a new one. </p><p> </p><p>Kicking out of the single shoe still somehow clinging to my foot, I raced back out of the corridor into the party. People were obviously alarmed by the suddenly-armed man and… Whatever the fuck Smasher was appearing amidst their uptight bullshit. A speedy scan of the room showed Nobuharu on the other side - and I saw Rogue's face right beside him. The second he saw danger he bolted, gathering up his nearest guards and fleeing. He probably thought he was doing the gentlemanly thing by ushering Rogue out with him, <em> protecting </em>her from the violence as they disappeared into an elevator. </p><p> </p><p>If only they knew they were just bringing a whole other violence with them. </p><p> </p><p>But, speaking of violence: Johnny still hadn't gotten up from where he was rolling on the floor in the middle of the panicked crowd, disorientated probably. And Smasher was approaching him, fast. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, fucker!" I yelled, and it was satisfying not only for Smasher to turn to look at me, but because of the horrified looks on the faces of the people I'd pretended to like for the last few hours. </p><p> </p><p>"You don't wanna dance with me, baby." he warned, taking a resounding stomp to face me again. "Last time I tripped. I've practised my waltz since." </p><p> </p><p>"Aw, that's a shame. I do love me a good tango." </p><p> </p><p>I fired maybe… Three shots before I had to high tail it outta there. Smashed was a fucking psycho, even as a hulk of metal, speeding after me as I bolted back down the corridor and somehow dodging most of the glass left on the ground at the base of the stairs. Thankfully stairs proved a smart move, because Smasher couldn't climb those quickly with his giant feet. It didn't stop him though, and by the time I'd put a handful of steps between us upstairs, he'd found a way to crawl up them like a motherfucking spider or something. I glanced back just in time to see him handling a pretty vase like a live grenade - it crashed into the wall behind me, and I barely slipped out into the corridor alongside the office before another one flew my way. </p><p> </p><p>"Where the fuck are you gettin' those?" I shouted ad a third pot barely scraped my arm. "You just storin' them in your ass or what?" </p><p> </p><p>Smasher let out a low, sinister chuckle. The he sound of it carried a metallic undertone like the spokes of an engine. I heard the stomp-stomp-stomp of his metal paws following after me, crunching on the forgotten porcelain, and I barely dipped into the office as he rounded the corner. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm gonna kill you." he sung, and as his hand closed around the doorframe, it cracked under his grip. "I'm gonna rip your arms outta their sockets and feed 'em to Silverhand." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted, and rounded the other side of the desk</p><p>"While you're at it, why don't you replace your dick with his arm? He'd do a better job with it than you." </p><p> </p><p>"Great idea. I'll test it on him first." </p><p> </p><p>I ducked, and the desk went flying over my head. It crashed into the wall behind me, and rolled heavily into the back of my legs, sending me onto all fours. Throwing myself to the side, my recovery was fast, and good for it - Smasher's foot stomped onto where my head had just been. I backed up again, firing round after round into his body, trying with all my might to get his head. But then I pulled the trigger just to hear a dry click, and a realisation crossed over us both at the same time. </p><p> </p><p>"Say hi to Johnny for me." said Smasher, right before he threw me through the glass wall. </p><p> </p><p><em> Something </em>cracked when I hit the ground. I'd gone right through the glass and clean over the balcony, making it all the way down to the ground floor. I groaned and tried to get up, fearing it had been my leg, but the sharp pain wracking up my arm quickly proved otherwise. It dangled uselessly by my side, but thankfully it wasn't my good hand. I got to my feet, seeing this penthouse was a whole lot fucking huger than it looked when it was full of people. But despite the big open space, I didn't see Johnny anywhere. He wouldn't miss this for the world - any chance to end Smasher might as well have been a national holiday for him, even if we both thought he was dead sixth months ago. </p><p> </p><p>And unfortunately, we couldn't stay to fight it. Not with me like this, and Johnny couldn't take him alone. Not when Smasher's chrome made his own look like early 80s tech. And by early 80s, I didn't mean the upcoming ones. </p><p> </p><p>Smasher jumped from the balcony and landed with a deafening crash, cracking up the pretty marble under his feet. The dude weighed heavier than a goddamn truck - couldn't imagine his cuddly aftercare was any good. Or metal dick, but as I tried to convince myself while staring at Nobuharu's monitor, I wasn't one to judge. Speaking of… </p><p> </p><p>"Where <em> is </em> your dick, Smasher?" I asked, gesturing vaguely to what was some sort of axel frame where his crotch should've been with the barrel of my gun. "Did Johnny cut it off years and years ago? Is that why you hate him so much?" </p><p> </p><p>"Don't give him credit where it ain't due," he laughed, "I cut it off myself." </p><p> </p><p>Another voice echoed out from - well, I couldn't really tell. I knew it was Johnny, though. </p><p> </p><p>"Damn, weird flex, but okay." </p><p> </p><p>"Make another reference to fuckin' memes and I will make sure your death is even slower this time round, Silverhand!" </p><p> </p><p>"Understandable, have a nice day." </p><p> </p><p>"I'm goin' to tear your dumb hair out." </p><p> </p><p>This penthouse had some sort of conjoined stereo system throughout the place - I only found out right then and there as some sort of strange, happy tune started playing. It was high-key, annoying, and not at <em> all </em>Johnny's type of music, but I think that mightve been the point. If there was a particular reason, it went over my head completely, but not over Adam's. The one part of his face that was still human looked so fit to explode, I wondered if it would. </p><p> </p><p>"I made a Mii of you once, y'know." called Johnny from behind us, leaning over the bannister of the upstairs balcony. He looked so casual, arms dangling his hands down over the barrier, head cocked to the side. "After a concert, high outta my fuckin' mind, usin' some shitty gen-one console one of my fans had thrown at me in the middle of a show. Knocked one of Ker's teeth out. Anyway, even the fuckery you could pull of with those magical sliders wouldn't even come close to doin' you justice nowadays, fuckhead."</p><p> </p><p>I raised my hand, and he nodded quite politely at me. </p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck is a Mii?" </p><p> </p><p>A long pause. Then: "I can't believe I willingly fuck you." </p><p> </p><p>"Can you turn this shit off?" Smasher asked, rather calmly. "I'd rather have anything but this while I'm beatin' the life outta ya." </p><p> </p><p>"Sure thing. One sec." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny disappeared behind the balcony. I awkwardly glanced in Smasher's direction, and he looked back. One of the strangest minutes of my life passed in that penthouse; torn dress, bleeding, broken arm, no shoes, a few metres away from Adam Smasher, whose remaining facial muscle movement was a twitch in his eyebrow at the happy, boppy tune playing on the surround sound. </p><p> </p><p>A familiar guitar suddenly started blasting through the speakers. </p><p> </p><p>"Can you feel it, Smasher?" I faintly heard Johnny's real voice yelling on top of his own coming through the speakers. "Can you <em> feel </em>it?" </p><p> </p><p><em> Chippin' In </em> was definitely one of Samurai's best songs. A good hard beat, sick guitar, the voice of a guy who thinks he's god yelling at you. Johnny came down the spiral stairs playing air guitar with his gun in right hand, but the metal fingers of his left were moving like he was actually holding the chords for each strum. When he'd finished his little solo after lingering at the bottom of the stairs for long enough, he lifted his gun in such a quick flash. The bullet was fired at Smasher before I even realised he'd done it. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny was evidently having a lot of fun as we - tried in my case - to go toe to toe with Smasher. <em> Chippin' In </em>kept going, kicking into chorus as Smasher launched an entire grand piano at us. So far, Johnny was doing a spectacular job at ignoring my every attempt to grab his attention, singing along to himself and banging his head to his own tune, grinning like a kid in a candy shop as he pushed aside his suit jacket to fetch another case of ammo. </p><p> </p><p>Yet while he was having a grand old time, I was <em> not </em> . My entire left arm felt on fire, and my legs were caked in blood that had crept out of the little cuts on them thanks to the glass frame I'd had a close and personal meeting with earlier. There was a sudden crash as Johnny flew into the floor-to-ceiling screen wall and tiny glass shards flew out in all directions. I fired a few shots at Smasher while he got back up, but I didn't exactly want to make myself a distraction right now. I felt more like I was distract <em> ed </em>. </p><p> </p><p>The song ended and autoplay picked up the next one. If it had been anything but another Samurai song, Johnny probably would've tried to insist I go change it. Thankfully, <em> Never Fade Away </em>started up, and Johnny got up on his feet like a man renewed. </p><p> </p><p>While the music was doing wonders to invigorate Johnny, it was doing the very opposite to Smasher. With every line real-Johnny sung with speaker-Johnny alongside speaker-Kerry, he seemed to get angrier, sloppier. It was bait and he was falling for it, hook, line and sinker. Seeing as how Johnny wasn't going to end this any time soon, I took it upon myself as the speakers faded into <em> A Like Supreme.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Smasher was occupied with Johnny, so I took advantage and crept around the ongoing fight. I barely ducked in time to dodge three bullets which buried themselves in the wooden paneling on the wall behind me, and I forced myself to take a deep breath to stop myself from firing three back at Johnny. He hadn't meant to get me, obviously. But his carelessness wasn't exactly appreciated. </p><p> </p><p>"So, Smasher, why'd you never come to any of my concerts?" I heard Johnny ask smarmily. Then, there was an abrupt and loud crash as something broke. "I would've given you signed merch!" </p><p> </p><p>When finally I made it to the glass wall, I was tired of this little dance Johnny was doing with his tall metal partner. I was also just very tired. And sore. And wanted to put on a huge hoodie that would hang to my knees and cover up the chill I felt all over thanks to the revealing nature of this dumb dress. </p><p> </p><p><em> But, V, you picked this dress yourself! </em> A little, high-pitched voice chirped in my head. <em> Shut your pie-hole </em>, another one said. Even without an entire other person's psyche in my head, I was insane. </p><p> </p><p>"Oi! Smasher!" I yelled, waving my hands wildly. His head snapped around almost full one-eighty like an owl. "Come here, bud, bring it in. I know how mean Johnny can be." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny didn't appreciate my interruption. "V, what are you-" </p><p> </p><p>"Come <em> on </em>, over here! I'm a prettier target than him anyway." I wiggled my only-moving arm tantalisingly at the chrome monster. "What happened to wanting to tear my arms off, huh? They're so excited to be detached from my body!" </p><p> </p><p>It worked though. "Dumb fuckin' bitch. I'll kill you!" he roared as he charged my way. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> A Like Supreme </em>!" yelled speaker-Johnny and speaker-Kerry together as I stepped aside, and let Smasher crash through the window behind me. </p><p> </p><p>Sinking to my knees, I caught my breath as speaker-Johnny finished his sick guitar solo and the music faded into silence. At least the gust of wind now coming into the penthouse was cool and refreshing. I heard Johnny's steps coming up behind me, and he stood next to me, hands planted on his hips, as he looked down at the street. </p><p> </p><p>"Think he's dead?" I asked dryly. </p><p> </p><p>"Not a chance." he said with certainty, even as a car exploded below. We both watched in satisfied silence as the warm glow of orange mushroomed up in the air, then settled down to a lovely blaze of fire down on the street.</p><p> </p><p>"Thought as much." I groaned, and held up my working hand to him, "Help me up?" </p><p> </p><p>He did more than that. The second I was on my shaky feet, he knocked my feet out from under me like I was a pretty damsel, lifting me up into his arms. I rolled my eyes and snorted. </p><p> </p><p>"My arm's broke, not my legs." </p><p> </p><p>"Your arm's broke?" </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck you, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>"Not here, V, goddamn." </p><p> </p><p>I glanced at his face beside mine as he stepped into the elevator and used my toe to kick the keypad for the lobby. </p><p> </p><p>"You think Rogue got the data?" I asked, shifting in his arms. He shot me a dirty look and his grip under my back and knees tightened a little. </p><p> </p><p>"I will fuckin' drop you." he threatened, but it was empty I knew. "And I don't know. Don't care either. I just beat the shit outta Adam Smasher to my greatest hits with a prelude of Nintendo copywritten material."</p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck's a Nintendo?" </p><p> </p><p>There was not an ounce of regret in Johnny’s eyes as he let me go.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes, Johnny's first song was the Mii Channel music. He's a millenial, you can't tell me memes weren't the shit when he and Ker were high after a show. </p><p>If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving a comment or kudos if you haven't already, it never fails to make me smile &lt;3 If you wanna scream with me about Cyberpunk or Dragon Age, find me on tumblr under <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Old Friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY??? Well, technically, not ONE day, because it's 1:04am as I'm posting this. I'm having such a goddamn blast writing this fic, and your guys' love really encourages me to keep going! I'll get to replying to comments after I'm done posting this &lt;3 I love that we're all collectively screaming about Johnny being a millenial memer, so I'm going to definitely keep running with that headcanon!</p><p>Heads up, I only proof-read the first half of this chapter, so errors won't be ironed out just yet!</p><p>I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>FEBRUARY 27th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p><b>NIGHT CITY / </b> <b> Heywood, The Glen </b><b>… 11:03AM</b></p><p> </p><p>When I hopped out of the cab of the truck, I lingered in the open door for a minute to triple-check I didn’t immediately need to hop back in. Arasaka would be crazy to try anything on Valentino turf, but still - the little paranoid voice in the back of my head had me make sure it was safe first before I slammed the door to Shit-heap closed behind me. </p><p> </p><p>“Won’t be long.” I chirped back through the open window, and Johnny nodded absently, too caught up in the choked-up taste of his cig. Any business in the last few weeks had been lame, and mostly carried out by him; I was technically down an arm, with it hanging uselessly in the sling in front of me, but that hadn’t stopped me pushing myself if the situation had really called for it. Which it had, a few times when jobs didn’t go according to plan. Viktor was already running out of patience for me, but hey - it would only punish me in the long run if I didn’t leave it to heal. </p><p> </p><p>So <em>the</em> Johnny Silverhand had become my chauffeur, and he was not happy about it. Since coming back to Night City, I had business to take care of, contacts to reintroduce myself to. And since we were in Heywood anyway, it was long past due that I paid a visit to an old fixer friend. </p><p> </p><p>I made my way through the crowded alley streets, hearing the distant music blasting from deeper between these blocks of buildings crowding out the sun on all angles. Still, like it always did, it managed to poke through the cracks, lighting up what otherwise would’ve felt dingy. The brick walls were lined with graffiti, art and random tagging alike. Members of the Valentinos watched as I went by, and I made certain to show off the iron strapped to my hip, even if the sling holding my arm was more eye-catching. I never really felt <em> threatened </em> per se by the Valentinos; they were posers, really, but even I knew underneath the front they were as capable at putting bullet holes in their enemies as any other gang in NC. I’d never made myself a target of them though, and I’d always maintained a healthy friendship with Sebastian Ibarra, the very same man of the cloth I was paying a visit to now. </p><p> </p><p>Today wasn’t a Sunday, so I’d find him where he always hung out - or I would if his schedule had stayed the same the whole time I was incognito. Relievingly, the padre was a consistent man, and liked his routines. So as I came out into the wider area between the buildings, where a basketball game was underway inside the cage, I spotted his familiar face on the bleachers across the way. </p><p> </p><p>He smiled widely at my approach - eyes flashing only briefly down to my arm and then back up to my face politely - and beckoned for me to take a seat beside him.</p><p> </p><p>“It has been a long time, V.” he said, as I settled down onto the warm metal of the bleachers; we sat under the hot sun, and I shaded my eyes with my hand. “Another Atlantic City, was it?”</p><p> </p><p>I huffed with a soft laugh, sighing, “Ah, y’know. Got into some messy biz, was better to just get away for a while.”</p><p> </p><p>“Biz regarding Arasaka, no?” the padre quirked a brow, and I reluctantly nodded. If Afterlife was openly boasting that it had been my doing that helped sink Arasaka down to its dismal state nowadays, then there wouldn’t be any fixer in the city that <em> didn’t </em> know. That put Sebastian in an interesting position, then; he was willing to still see me in front of so many, welcome me into his turf, even if it meant angering corpo rats. How many of my other old contacts would be the same? Would some still sell-out with the hope that one day, Arasaka would find a way to crawl back up like it always has?</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, that’s right.” I didn’t have a reason to try to lie. Plus, he’d see right through it. Being a man who’d cleansed the millions of sins this city sees every day, he would see a lie immediately, even if it was white. </p><p> </p><p>Sebastian nodded slowly with a low hum of acknowledgement, and turned his attention back to the basketball game. Obviously my sudden arrival meant I didn’t know who was winning, but I watched too as a lanky teenager swiped the ball away last second from going through the net. A strange, stray thought wiggled its way into my head - how old was this game? Even I’d played it growing up on these streets, though being one of the few girls in my area during my childhood meant I’d usually be the last picked for games. That was until I worked up some muscle and proved I was more of an asset than a dead weight. It had been a lesson that had followed me through to my adulthood, even if sometimes it felt like I was still an aimless kid chasing the distant dreams of the big leagues. Watching these kids play, half cheering and half yelling their anguish to the sky when a shot misses or succeeds - it made me weirdly nostalgic. I would never want to go back to being a kid again, those were dark fucking days indeed. But something about the atmosphere here, under the sun in the cool air, it was soothing. I could’ve stayed there all day. </p><p> </p><p>“Did you come to me regarding something in particular, V?” asked Sebastian, bringing my attention back to him. I looked over, shrugging and sitting up.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, not really. Just wanted to pop in, check you’re still kickin’.” I scratched at my cheek, resisting the urge to pick at the little scab just beneath my eye thanks to the last job that hadn’t quite finished healing yet. “Plus, I’m movin’ into the area. Over in Wellsprings.”</p><p> </p><p>“Does that mean you have reconsidered my age-old offer?”</p><p> </p><p>I laughed softly, shaking my head. “The Valentinos might’ve fit Jack, but not me, Padre. Just wanted nicer views outta my window than what Watson offered.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course. Either way, I welcome you to Heywood. If ever you have need of me, you know where you will find me.” </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks. Here’s my new holo deets.” </p><p> </p><p>After transferring my new contact info over, I left him to enjoy his game. Walking back through the alleys, I found myself feeling quite relieved that he hadn’t pushed the issue. Time and time again he’d asked me if I wanted in on the Valentinos gang, and I’d survived long enough on the streets without resorting to one. I understood the appeal, and didn’t hate on anyone for joining up with one; finding fellows who’d been raised through the same shit, who could offer you ways to move up and over it. But I’d never wanted that shit, it felt too official. Once in, how could you ever get out? I never wanted to sign my life away, even if it was to some casual cause like the Valentinos. </p><p> </p><p>Shit-heap was exactly where I’d left it. It really was a sorry sight, little caved-in parts of the chassis from where Johnny had used the strength of his arm to pull out massive dents; rust creeping over the old, pale-blue paint job. The best part about it was the wheels, which we’d had refitted with fresh tires for better traversing the Badlands. Still, if we were back in Night City for good, our beloved Shit-heap <em> had </em> to go. If people started regularly seeing me out and about in this wreck of a pick-up, my street cred would literally melt like ice-cream under the sun.</p><p> </p><p>“That was fast.” Johnny commented as I clambered back in next to him, settling into the uncomfortable, tearing leather of the seat. This thing really was quite embarrassing the more and more I thought about it. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, only went in to check in, see how things were since we left.” I explained, and checked the little digital clock on the radio in the dash. “Wanna go grab a bite for lunch? Then we can head over to Wellsprings to get settled in.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, I’m hungry anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>As Johnny turned back out onto the road, I started digging around the glove box for some painkillers. While it wasn’t exactly life-ending, the pain in my elbow was frustratingly consistent, just lingering like a fly on shit. I could’ve had it fixed by now, if we had the money for a refitting; replace my bones entirely with metal, a job done in an afternoon by a talented ripperdoc like Viktor Vector. But we didn’t, nor did I really like the idea. It made my stomach churn a little, admittedly. Even my current chrome was a bit tough to swallow if I thought about it too hard, with the monowire ports on the insides of my wrists where my veins should be, the pads of rubber on the insides of my palms. I didn’t know how people like the goons in Maelstrom had the stomach to fully replace entire parts of their bodies with metal and wires. I really did prefer skin and bone if given the choice.</p><p> </p><p>“Here.” Johnny said without taking his eyes off the road; he stuck his left hand into the front pocket of the cross-body backpack I’d left on the seat between us, and chucked a little tub of meds at me.</p><p> </p><p>I had completely forgotten I’d even stashed them in there. He must’ve seen me do it that morning when we packed up outta the cosy hotel room we’d been settled in, and left it for the last time. Between the pay from Rogue’s job, plus the occasional, less-Adam-Smasher-related - and therefore safer ones - we’d gathered up enough money to put forward a rent deposit on a nice little place in Heywood. We’d been so damn lucky, snagging up the last apartment in a block with a balcony looking out over the bay. It was more expensive than my last place, but bigger, and between the two of us we’d be able to keep up on rent easy. </p><p> </p><p>We stopped off at a waffle and burger place that had very quickly become one of Johnny’s favourites since we started frequenting Heywood more. We ordered, and while we waited at one of the tables for our food to turn up, I checked over my holo, reading through messages. Rogue hadn’t sent a follow-up to our job a few weeks ago since the automated notification that she’d transferred the funds to my account afterward. I figured she wouldn’t, considering she wasn’t exactly on buddy-buddy terms with me and was still pissed with Johnny for reasons she wouldn’t explain. Still, I had to admit I was curious as to what she was planning for that data she’d taken from Arasaka.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s dirty.” Johnny had said plainly one night while we were bored out of our minds watching some dumb sitcom - unable to go out and do much with my arm only fresh in a cast. “She sold out to corps to be the only one standin’ after what happened back in the Fourth Corpo war. With this info? She can get out, get on top. We shouldn’t get involved, V.”</p><p> </p><p>He could be the voice of reason all he wanted to, I knew he wanted to know what dirt Rogue had. He was a hypocrite, always saying one thing and meaning another. I mean, he’d also promised Vik to keep me on strict bed rest. Resting had been out of the question for the next few hours. </p><p> </p><p>“I got a beef and fries, and a spicy chicken with fries.” said the waitress suddenly beside our table, and I jumped back into reality as she set them down in front of us. I said a thanks, realising suddenly how very hungry I actually felt. I chowed down, awkwardly holding my holo in the crook of my sling-ridden elbow while my other hand fed fries into my mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, anythin’ interestin’?” Johnny asked after a few minutes of silent eating, and his straw made a silly slurping noise as he took a sip. It still felt very strange to see him doing something as normal as eating. Every time he ate, or slept, or showered, or yawned, or sneezed - anything stupidly mundane, it was a sudden slap of a reminder that he was <em> real </em>. He wasn’t just a construct in my head anymore. Alt had done the impossible and reunited his soul with his body, even if she claimed he was just a series of data. That meant that there must be hope for her somewhere, but by this point, I think she didn’t want saving. </p><p> </p><p>I shook my head. “Nah, nothin’ big. Same old. My new holo deets are still bein’ passed around town anyway, so it might be a little while ‘til a big name fixer rolls our way.”</p><p> </p><p>“What gives?” he huffed, taking a bite out of his burger. It was gross and greasy - <em> just how it should be </em>, he’d told me once - and he, thankfully, immediately patted at his beard with a napkin. “We roll back into town and get a job with the best fixer in all of NC, and then nothin’.”</p><p> </p><p>“Gotta be patient, I guess. Anyway, I’m glad nothin’ big is comin’ our way yet. My arm’s still nothin’ but a pain the ass right now, and it gives us time to settle in and get our bearin’s.” </p><p> </p><p>“I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>With nothing left to do on the holo, I pocketed it, and turned my attention to the tv hanging over the diner bar. It was just the daily news reel, and I couldn’t even hear it over the bustle of lunchtime diners filling up the joint around us. Still, I could read the headlines, keeping a close eye for anything Arasaka-related. Nothing important popped out at me, though. It would’ve really been nice to see more news on its impending collapse, especially if Afterlife insisted on keeping me as Arasaka’s <em> angel of doom </em>. One, it’d fuck up my street cred if they recovered after all that. Two, it would mean no where on the fucking planet would be safe for me if resources flooded back in. </p><p> </p><p>“So this new place,” Johnny spoke up, leaning back into the leather booth after having already finished his food. Aside from a few stray fries I helped myself to, that is. “Gimme some details.”</p><p> </p><p>I shrugged. “Not huge, but not cramped either. Plenty of space for both of us.” I said, “Usual studio style, one bathroom, but get this - an <em> actual </em>kitchen. How cool is that?”</p><p> </p><p>Johnny looked at me like I had two heads. “Goddamn, people in this city really settle for shit now, huh?” he grumbled, “Back in my day, every home had a fuckin’ kitchen. That’s a necessity, not a luxury. You’re gonna tell me most apartments here don’t even have a shitter?”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, I wouldn’t be shocked.”</p><p> </p><p>He grunted, folding his arms over his chest. The motion made a thought jump to mind, and I nodded at the bright sheen of metal shined under the bit of sun that wormed its way through the windows. </p><p> </p><p>“Any thoughts about what upgrades you want?” I asked. I’d brought it up to him a few days back, and he’d vaguely shrugged the idea off, mumbling about how he didn’t need touch ups. I wasn’t exactly an expert in chrome, but even <em> I </em> knew his hardware was outdated shit, and I’d keep offering him the eddies to fast-forward him into the 21st century until he took it. </p><p> </p><p>In response, he nodded his head vaguely at me. “I need one of those holos, so that, I guess. Maybe eyes - optics, whatever. Tired of not bein’ able to see the shit you do.”</p><p> </p><p>I winked at him. “Kiroshi optics, top ‘o the line.” he didn’t need to know I’d gotten these basically on loan until I’d managed to pay Viktor back.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about the arm?”</p><p> </p><p>“The<em> hand </em>.” he immediately corrected, “And it’s fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh huh. Then why have I seen it freezin’ up lately? Surely I’m not just imaginin’ the jitterin’ and the shakes.” </p><p> </p><p>Johnny shot me a very quick, sharp look. We both knew I wasn’t wrong, though; even now his hardware betrayed him with an uncontrollable twitch of his fingers against the tabletop. I raised my brows in a “told ya so,” kinda way, and he growled under his breath as I finished off the last fry between our plates. </p><p> </p><p>“Listen, if you really don’t wanna upgrade, you don’t have to.” I offered as a middle ground, “At the very least, just let a ripperdoc tighten up the motors or something. Leave it any longer and your nervous system will have a fuckin’ fit or somethin’.”</p><p> </p><p>He finished off his drink, and when he put the empty cup back down, he silently stewed for a while. In the warm glow of the sun streaming through the windows of the diner, I got to appreciate him again - admire how handsome he really was, even for a man who was technically, by the year 2078, an old timer. Not even the best anti-aging treatments could pull off what being frozen <em> literally </em> in time had done for Johnny’s looks. There wasn’t a single grey hair on his head or in his beard. I often wondered if the jet black of his hair had been dyed, if he’d gone all in on the rockerboy look like I’d gone wild with the neon-pink of mine. But he’d always insist it was natural, and make me look at the very few brown strands that showed up <em> only </em> in the sun. Strangely convenient, that. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll get upgrades.” he decided abruptly with a huff. “But the hand stays. The whole original arm.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, that’s fine.” I agreed, nodding. “You’d be surprised by the shit ripperdocs can pull off nowadays, y’know. You heard of those mantis blade things? That sorta shit’s wild, and with that arm as a base, who knows what chaos you could pack in that thing.”</p><p> </p><p>Since we were done, we figured it was a good time to get outta there. It was hot, and the sheer amount of people clustered into that small diner was only making it worse - any worse and I’d be sweating. Not something I needed, especially not when all laundry was on my hands lately; Johnny had made me follow through on the dumb bet I’d made with him in Nobuharu’s penthouse. He’d, surprisingly, ended up putting in more effort than me. The victory was easily his. </p><p> </p><p>“Maybe I’ll do what I used to do for the gals in front row at my concerts.” he joked one night, stripping out of his shirt. He balled it up in his fist, launched it at me, and I caught it lamely against my chest. “Next time I might cover it in sweat.”</p><p> </p><p>“Gross.” </p><p> </p><p>“You’d be surprised how many of them loved that trick.”</p><p> </p><p>Those old fans of Johnny’s, his old groupies - they were old themselves nowadays. It was mind-boggling to think that the women who used to fawn over his good looks still could, while their own youth had slipped away. Most times I even managed to forget Johnny was ever a celebrity once, the sudden reminders appearing on the radio that Johnny would turn up, or a random guy waltzing by on the street in a Samurai tee. Even worse, I forgot even easier that he’d once been a terrorist in this town. I never wanted to excuse that, but when I spent enough time around him, it had been worryingly easy to forget how dangerous he really could be. I forgot how dangerous he had once been <em> to me </em> directly. </p><p> </p><p>Once, I’d heard a vague memory of him swearing to Rogue that he’d changed. Even if she didn’t believe him, I knew it was true. Somehow, somewhere along the way, I’d done something to kick his moral compass in the ass. </p><p> </p><p>“This next block up here.” I directed, as buildings coming up on our left blocked out the view of the sea. I couldn’t wait to see the view from our window myself; I’d never had an apartment with a balcony before, but a balcony with a view like that? </p><p> </p><p>Johnny pulled us over just outside the apartment building, and once we’d approached the front door on foot, a clever little AI in a terminal had asked me for details. Submitting my answers, the terminal spat out a keycard, chipped for the lock to our door, and then the doors to the stairwell parted for us. </p><p> </p><p>“Last one up loses.” Johnny said casually as he sidestepped in front of me, easily blocking my entrance. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, that’s no fuckin’ fair! Your legs are longer than mine.”</p><p> </p><p>He was already up the first flight. “That sounds like a you-problem.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck you, Johnny.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hurry up and ya can.”</p><p> </p><p>His smarmy tone was what pushed me up the stairs, though his offer was also a reasonably decent motivator. We made it up to the third floor, and he was forced to wait for me only because he didn’t know which door was ours. I swiped the card over the reader and, like a true gentleman, he barged past me through the open door.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoops, don’t mind me. Silverhand comin’ through.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re such a fuckin’ asshole.” </p><p> </p><p>He gave me a wink, and I followed him in. When the door closed shut behind me, I finally felt safe to breathe deep - still, it was hard to completely relax just yet. This place wasn’t secure yet, and it definitely wasn’t ours. That’d change over time, I think. </p><p> </p><p>The wall directly opposite to the door was all glass, with a door Johnny promptly pushed open to the balcony. The harsh, bright glow of the sun flooded most of the apartment with light, and I got a salty whiff of the breeze that came through the open door. Predictably, Johnny immediately started smoking, but at least he did it outside on the balcony - maybe I could train him to go out there like a dog going potty. I went out to have a look at the view with him, and apart from the concrete pier right in front of us and the water being a bit green if you stared at it too long, it was a gorgeous sight to have outside the window. Maybe I’d have to put the bed right here just to get this view last minute before sleep and first thing in the morning. </p><p> </p><p>I checked out what other space we had. Unfortunately, this place didn’t come equipped with a room screaming to be used as a sweet-ass armory like my last place, but the little coat cupboard by the door might have to suffice. But, as promised, it came with a kitchen. Johnny might’ve laughed at me, but getting a place in NC that actually came fitted with any sort of home cooking appliances included was nightmarish. I’d also never bothered to look until I suddenly had a partner with me that refused to eat the stuff outta vending machines like I used to in the mornings. Johnny claimed he knew how to cook but I didn’t believe it for a second. Packet noodles didn’t count, and I would’ve bet a good chunk of eddies on that being his main source of nutrition back in the day. </p><p> </p><p>The bathroom was nice. Small, but nice. Good enough for a bathroom, it didn’t need to be overly luxurious. Shower was roomy, though, so much so that I invited Johnny with me as our first course of action in this place. It’d have to do until things like the actual furniture turned up - a bed and a sofa would be a nice start. Though knowing Johnny, he’d decide the kitchen counter or the floor was the next best regardless. </p><p> </p><p>Staying at that hotel had been decent enough, but it was nice to finally have a place to call ours. It still felt weird to be acknowledging Johnny as an official tenant of this apartment alongside me, and not just a guy living rent-free in my head and trying to invent new ways to pet the cat he couldn’t touch. That had been a little traumatic both in the emotional sense, and physical - cats, for whatever reason, seemed to realise he was there even if they didn’t understand it, and the amount of times I’d caught him trying to convince Nibbles to jump off a high piece of furniture into his arms had been enough to give me a heart attack. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe that Bakeneko thing Takemura talked about ages ago actually had some truth to it. </p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>FEBRUARY 29th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p><b>NIGHT CITY / </b> <b> Westbrook, North Oak </b> <b>… 00:31AM</b></p><p> </p><p>“Come on, V, don’t be a pussy.”</p><p> </p><p>Strange how thoughts of cats happened to cross my mind again at the same time Johnny tried - and failed - to provoke me. Grumbling under my breath, I followed after him, half contemplating tearing my sling off entirely just to keep my balance better. This was a bad idea all round, but the legendary Silverhand didn’t just get told <em> no </em>. I could’ve just called ahead, let him know I was on my way, and he would’ve been none the wiser about a plus one. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not bein’ a pussy.” I breathed, keeping my voice low as I caught up to him. He was standing up on his toes, using his height - and the power box under his feet - to peer up over the wall. “I just think this is a terrible idea, and I’m also havin’ a hard time considerin’ this is a terrible plan.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, give over. You have a sore arm.”</p><p> </p><p>“Johnny, I fuckin’ <em> shattered </em> my bones.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Now come on, I’ll give ya a boost.”</p><p> </p><p>I didn’t <em> want </em> a boost. We could’ve just gone in through the gates, like normal people. But no, that was watched at all times by surveillance cameras, and Kerry would be onto us immediately. So, swallowing any regret I had for later, I stepped up to Johnny and let him haul me up and over the wall. I rolled over the top of it and landed with a thump onto my feet, glad I at least could save myself the indignance of landing in the dirt beneath these manicured bushes. I heard a few soft grunts from the other side, and Johnny landed beside me, keeping low.</p><p> </p><p>“This is the exact sorta shit me and Ker would’ve pulled back in the day anyway.” he said dismissively, waving a hand at me as if I’d opened my mouth to complain again. I <em> hadn’t </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not Ker, Johnny, and I don’t know if he’d appreciate sentiment if it’s breakin’ and enterin’ in his own home.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, come on, lighten up. What’s the worst that can happen?”</p><p> </p><p>“We trip his security, his army of bots come after us, and the NCPD are alerted to a break-in?”</p><p> </p><p>He turned to stare at me with the most unimpressed, blank stare I’d ever seen on his face. When he looked at me long enough for it to get weird, I waved a hand at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, fine! Let’s go already.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s my girl. Come on.”</p><p> </p><p>That should not have made my stomach do a little flip. It should <em> not </em> have made my stomach do a little flip. What was I, a blushing teenager? Fuck.</p><p> </p><p>Johnny led an expertly sneaky path behind various decorative… pieces in Kerry’s garden, and it started to become apparent that finding a stealthy entrance to places definitely wasn’t something he’d spat out of his ass. The few times that one of the patrolling security bots nearly caught wind of us was my fault every time, but eventually, we managed to make it round back to where the pool sat perfectly manicured and clean on the yard. It was up to me to get us in though, being the only one armed with the means; Johnny kept watch while I jacked into the terminal by the back door, almost sweating under the pressure of figuring out the code in some semblance of a hurry. Kerry had upgraded since the last time I broke in. Maybe that was why.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes! Got it.” I breathed in relief when I didn’t get overwhelmed with errors like I feared I might’ve. I jacked out, and with a touch of a button, the door slid open. </p><p> </p><p>Having been here dozens of times in my head, Johnny led the way. The second we were inside safely with the door closed behind us, he straightened out of his crouch, immediately at ease. He continued to make himself painfully at home by making a beeline for Kerry’s downstairs bar, snorting to himself once-fucking-again about the enormous painting of Kerry’s naked ass hanging across from the enormous tv screen. </p><p> </p><p>“What the <em> fuck </em> are you doing?” I hissed, as lowly as I could - a little scared, I peered up at the mezzanine level above where I knew Kerry’s bedroom was. No sign of life, so I let a little breath of relief leave me. Still quietly, though.</p><p> </p><p>“Helpin’ myself, what’s it look like?” he said casually, tasting a sip of the bourbon he’d poured for himself. Pulling a contented face, he poured himself a full glass, and gestured at the bar. “He won’t mind.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll pass, thanks, until the guy who actually lives here asks me if I want a drink.”</p><p> </p><p>Ignoring me entirely, Johnny waltzed past me. Groaning, I went after him, and the second he took a left, I knew where he was going. The collection of guitars had grown since the last time I’d visited - the one Johnny plucked from the wall was the very same one I’d held in my hands once, on a stage. Of course it hadn’t been me controlling them - that had been all Johnny, playing me with that guitar like a puppet. I couldn’t for the life of me remember its name, its model - not even the company that’d made it. But the shape I recognised, the scratches in the shiny black paint job which revealed the chipped wood beneath. Johnny’s stickers had started peeling off a long time ago, but some digilent soul had stuck them back down, resulting in a weird film over them, and lingering traces of their original gluey applications just a few centimetres off. </p><p> </p><p>Once it was in his hand, he started digging around in the pile of equipment nearby the abandoned drum kit. The second I saw him picking up cables, I rushed over to put a firm stop to whatever he was going. </p><p> </p><p>“Relax,” he held up his free hand innocently, and put the cables between his teeth as he then grasped the handle of a knee-high amplifier. </p><p> </p><p>“R-Relax? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? I-Fuck me, Johnny, this is-”</p><p> </p><p>“Somehow I don’t think Ker would appreciate seein’ the straights TM bangin’ on his couch.” </p><p> </p><p>“The <em> what </em> now?”</p><p> </p><p>He looked over his shoulder at me as he headed back to the naked-Kerry portrait room. Again, that look of <em> what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“Straights. Me, you. You said fuck me, I said no. Kerry would not want to see that.”</p><p> </p><p>I blinked, and sighed. Yeah, that part made sense, Kerry was gay, so what? “What about that other thing you said?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tee-m.”</p><p> </p><p>Johnny had deposited himself on the couch, and was fiddling with the cables. When I said that, he gave me another blank look, as if I’d just torn his soul from his body - and it would be for the second time in his life. Then, with a heavy sigh, he shook his head, and plugged it into the amp.</p><p> </p><p>“I wish there was a reverse okay-boomer.” he muttered under his breath. I offered an innocent shrug, absolutely helpless. What the fuck was a boomer? Some sort of gun? Explosive more likely. </p><p> </p><p>“Besides, you’re wrong.” I said dismissively, watching him gently strum chords and tighten or loosen their bolts. “Neither of us are straight. I’d fuck Rogue just as quickly as you’d fuck Kerry.”</p><p> </p><p>His brows raised and he pouted his lips in a brief expression of valid consideration. Deciding I was right, he nodded, and abruptly ran a nail downwards across all the strings on the guitar. They were all perfectly in-tune. But that wasn’t really my main thought.</p><p> </p><p>“Who the fuck is touchin’ my fuckin’ guitars?” came a slurred voice from upstairs. I groaned, rubbing at my eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Johnny grinned at me. “Ker always was a heavy sleeper.”</p><p> </p><p>I gave him the phoniest laugh I could manage, and dreaded the second Kerry would get up to peer over the mezzanine balcony. By the time he did, Johnny had started playing a riff so aggressively fast, it made me dizzy to watch his metal fingers fly up and down the neck of the guitar. </p><p> </p><p>“What the fu… <em> V </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Kerry’s face lit up as he spotted me. Offering him an awkward little wave, I wracked my brain for how to explain this one. After all, it wasn’t me that had done the explaining last time, but Johnny, just like it had been with Rogue. He didn’t expect me to explain, <em> again </em>, did he? Trying to figure out what to tell and what not to tell to Rogue in a redux of our flight from NC had been one thing. Figuring out what to tell Kerry? That was something else.</p><p> </p><p>Rogue had moved on all on her own, after all. Kerry needed my help to forget about Johnny’s personal thumbprint on his life. </p><p> </p><p>I’d never seen a rich rockerboy sprint away from a balcony and I’d never heard a rich rockerboy’s fuzzy slippers scurry across floorboards. By the time Kerry made it downstairs, it was evident he had literally just rolled out of bed - grey hair a fluffy mess, smudged eyeliner making him look like something of a racoon. He was wearing a new dressing gown from last time, this one being in a glitzy, golden animal print. I wanted one. </p><p> </p><p>“V, holy shit, is it good to see you.” he said with a grin as he crossed the room. He hadn’t quite spotted Johnny yet behind me, for which I was glad. I’d need to break this to him slowly, gently. “Where the hell did you go, huh? You just up and vanished.”</p><p> </p><p>“I uh, had some biz to take care of outside o’ town. Listen, Ker-”</p><p> </p><p>He sidestepped me like I wasn’t even there. I jumped nearly ten feet into the air when, out of fucking <em> nowhere </em>, a bang of a gun went off beside me. Wide-eyed, I turned to check on Johnny, who blinked similarly wide-eyed back at us, barely having squished his head into his shoulders just in time to dodge the bullet now sizzling away in the wall behind him.</p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck? V, what the fuck?” Kerry backed off, face pale and white, like he’d seen a ghost. Well, it wasn’t really <em> wrong </em> to describe it that way. “Who the fuck is that? W-W- I- oh shit.”</p><p> </p><p>“Holy shit! Okay, it’s okay. Gimme the gun, Kerry, just calm down, okay? Everything’s fine.” </p><p> </p><p>“N-No, it’s not. I’ll… uh… I’ll be right back.”</p><p> </p><p>I half-expected him to turn around and walk out. Not faint like a schoolgirl.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh.” Johnny said softly behind me as I stood over Kerry’s form, slumped up on the ground. “Faintin’ on command. Drama queen’s stepped it up a notch.”</p><p> </p><p>I huffed. “Oh, fuck off, Johnny. Come help me lift him up onto the couch.”</p><p> </p><p>“What is it then? Fuck off or come help?”</p><p> </p><p>The glare I shot him was about as deadly as the bullet would’ve been if it had hit him between the eyes. When he finally decided he’d put the guitar aside to come and help, he hauled Kerry up and onto the longer couch while I directed - my arm really was just <em> too sore </em> to help, after all. Side by side, we looked down at him, both of us hands on hips. Well, I had one hand on my hip. The other one was still just dangling uselessly against my chest in the sling.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t think he’d faint.” Johnny said offhandedly. I hummed absently. How <em> was </em> a person supposed to react to their best friend who’d been dead for fifty years just… being on their couch? He’d taken it really well last time, when I’d come to his place with Johnny in my head. I guess maybe it was a bit much to actually see his face, the legend actually in his physical fucking body? </p><p> </p><p>It was about twenty minutes later when Kerry showed signs of coming to. First there was a groan, and then he slowly sat up; I made Johnny go stand behind a wall out of sight as Kerry’s eyes fluttered open. For a short while he just blinked around, disoriented and confused, and when I offered him a glass of water, he stared at me with a suspicious frown.</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t…” he began, and then clamped his mouth shut again. He opened it, then shut it again, did it a few more times wordlessly like a fish, and then huffed out of his nose. After taking a sip of the water, he looked at me with such a serious expression it kinda surprised me. “Wasn’t there someone here with you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. About that, Kerry…” I glanced up over his shoulder, and shot a warning look at the peek of Johnny’s head peering around the wall. By the time Kerry turned to look, he’d disappeared back behind the wall. “Okay, I don’t really know how to say this.”</p><p> </p><p>“I saw Johnny.” he said suddenly, and then rubbed harshly at his eyes. “I saw Johnny, why the fuck did I see Johnny? He’s just some guy, right? Tell me it’s some sorta sick joke or somethin’, V. It’s just some guy that looks like him. I just have to apologise to the guy for shootin’ at him and then I can go back to sleep.”</p><p> </p><p>I wet my lips and tried to think of what to say. When Kerry peeled his hand away from his face, his eyes looked bloodshot, and he stared so deep into my soul with those baby blues of his, I gulped. My brain panicked.</p><p> </p><p>“It was Johnny.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Fuck </em>! I wasn’t meant to just blurt it out. Shit. Fuck. Shit-shit.” </p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean it was Johnny?” Kerry asked, breathless. “I-I shot at Johnny? Holy fuck, I shot at Johnny! I could’ve killed him. I could’ve- wait, he was dead. Johnny was dead, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“You two are fuckin’ useless.” came the voice from out in the hallway. Kerry looked at me wide-eyed, and then his head snapped behind him. With an unimpressed expression on his face, Johnny stepped back into the room, expertly ignoring the look of complete disapproval on my own. “Hey, Ker.”</p><p> </p><p>I almost felt like I shouldn’t have even been in the room to watch the explosion of emotion that Kerry expelled in that moment. He got up and crossed the space to where Johnny stood watching him, who didn’t even put up a fight against the hug Kerry hauled him into. If anything, it took me by surprise that after a second, Johnny hugged him back. Then he started crying, which neither of us were ready for, so I backed off and let Johnny sort that one out. The <em> help-me </em> plea on his face as he gently patted Kerry’s back was abso-fucking-lutely priceless.</p><p> </p><p>“Pinch me.” Kerry said suddenly, “Seriously, just fuckin’ do it, Johnny. I don’t trust I’m awake.”</p><p> </p><p>Johnny shrugged. What else could he do but oblige? So he did, and Kerry made a shout and slapped his hand away. </p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck? That hurt!” </p><p> </p><p>“Well, <em> yeah. </em> It wasn’t gonna tickle.”</p><p> </p><p>The feigned annoyance on Kerry’s face quickly faded away into a grin. “Holy fuck.” he breathed, and he stepped back to look Johnny up and down. Helpfully, he held up his hands, spun on the spot; slapped his own ass for extra effect, and it had the both of us snorting. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve done three things right in this life.” Johnny began, so strangely sage that it gave me pause. He poked a finger at me. “I didn’t kill V.” he said, and I nodded. “I made some kick-ass songs with my band in the 2010s.” Kerry nodded at that one. “And I also fuck. What more can you want?”</p><p> </p><p>“I should punch you, you asshole. How long have you like… Been back? How, even? Why the fuck did you come in and start playin’ guitar again instead of just talkin’ to me like a normal person?”</p><p> </p><p>I could helpfully chip in for that one. “Johnny isn’t normal, Kerry.”</p><p> </p><p>Both of them, in unison, poked a finger each and nodded at me. When they both realised they’d done it at the same time, something… primal took over. There was no other way to explain the instantaneous, in-sync air guitar, followed by a resounding, “Excellent!” from both of them. A little stunned, I opened my mouth, and then let it close again. I was impersonating a fish like Kerry had. </p><p> </p><p>Finally, I managed, “One question: what the fuck was that?”</p><p> </p><p>Johnny waved a hand at me dissmissively and rounded the couch once more to settle himself on the smaller of the two, settling his guitar back in his lap. “Ignore her,” he said to Kerry, “She was born this century.”</p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck’s that meant to mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“It means you can’t finish this sentence: road work ahead?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh yeah, I sure hope it does.” Kerry said <em> immediately </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“I hate you both.”</p><p> </p><p>Even if I wasn’t in on their millennial bullshit humour, I managed to find myself relaxing as Kerry unwound a bit. Thankfully, Johnny took it upon himself to help explain this time, telling our brave tale of infiltrating Arasaka as he strummed a gentle tune on the guitar. Most unlike him, really. After a short while, Kerry paused the story to go and arm himself with his own guitar, and between the pair of them and a drink, I sunk further and further into the couch. While I definitely didn’t mind Samurai’s hard rock style, there was definitely something to be said about a softer, slower take on <em> A Ballad of Buck Ravers </em> that the two of them played perfectly together. Like they’d done this before, like they didn’t need the practise. </p><p> </p><p>“You know what would be a great fuckin’ idea?” Johnny asked suddenly in a brief window of quiet - conversation-wise anyhow. They were still playing, and I cracked an eye open to look over at him. “We should reform Samurai.”</p><p> </p><p>Kerry snorted. “Been there, done that.”</p><p> </p><p>“But <em> I </em>wasn’t there. And there is no Samurai without me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You <em> were </em>there, Johnny. I woke up with a pounding headache and vomit in my hair because of you.” I grumbled, and an evil little smirk appeared on his lips. </p><p> </p><p>“Besides, that was a one-time thing, Johnny.” said Kerry.</p><p> </p><p>“Heard that one before.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut the fuck up. You know what the rest of the gang’s like, you saw through V, right? Plus, I’ve moved on with my own career now. Things are really startin’ to look up again, I’m single-handedly revivin’ rock.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh huh. With some Japanese chicks that make bubblegum pink music videos?”</p><p> </p><p>“You wouldn’t get it, Johnny.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, course not. I never get nothin’.” abruptly, he stopped playing. He set aside the guitar, prompting Kerry’s fingers to stop plucking chords, and as he got to his feet he clicked his smoke case open to light one to his lips. Tossing it behind him, he disappeared outside, leaving me and Kerry in awkward silence. </p><p> </p><p>“Rest in peace to that vibe, I guess.” I mused, swirling the last sip of my drink around in my glass. Kerry sighed, scratching the back of his neck; I couldn’t imagine what was going on in his head right then and there. He knew better than anyone how unpredictable and difficult Johnny could be - he’d gone through Johnny’s worst years where he listened to no one, and just screamed his frustration into a microphone hoping it would lessen the emptiness. Glancing sideways at him, I tapped his arm with my glass - I wanted to be more reassuring, grab ahold of his shoulder or something, but the whole one-armed situation had me stuck. “I know he’s an ass, but… Maybe just consider it? He was really lookin’ forward to seein’ you, I think it’d do actual miracles for him to just live it again, even for one gig.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’d take an actual fuckin’ miracle to pull it off.” Kerry rubbed at his brow, and suddenly he looked like he had ten more wrinkles. “What’s up with you two, anyway? Somethin’ goin’ on?”</p><p> </p><p>I shrugged. “It’s Johnny. He fucks, like he said. I can’t say if there’s anythin’ more goin’ on his end.”</p><p> </p><p>He raised a brow. “And is there on your end?”</p><p> </p><p>Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but maybe it was the drink that had me spilling. I sat up, and pinched a cig from Johnny’s forgotten case, letting Kerry light it up for me. “Guy saved my life.” I breathed out a puff of smoke, feeling my shoulders sink. “Genuinely, like, more than the whole chip bullshit. Knowin’ him’s done somethin’, y’know? I want him to be happy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shit. You said that with a straight face.” </p><p> </p><p>“Did I? Where’s that gun from earlier, can you put it to my head and pull the trigger?”</p><p> </p><p>Kerry barked a laugh, and very quickly shook his head. “No, I am definitely not shooting at anyone else tonight.” then his smile faded as quickly as it came, and he sighed at the coffee table. Setting the guitar aside, he picked up Johnny’s case and examined it curiously. He opened it, inspecting the brand inside. “<em> Shit-heap is not your trash-heap. Viv </em>.” he read aloud, cocking his head at me. “With two kisses. Goddamn.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, fuck off, Kerry.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you talkin’ about? I meant the fact your name’s Viv.”</p><p> </p><p>After I’d taken the time to explain the little message inside the case written in red permanent marker, Kerry took it upon himself to go talk to Johnny. I didn’t know what they were gonna talk about, but it wasn’t really my business, either. I already felt a bit out of place here with the two of them, old friends reminiscing. I’d always felt a bit weird around Kerry anyway - he kept looking at me like he was just expecting someone else, like he was hoping I’d just be Johnny the next time he glanced my way. After a while, it began to feel like Kerry liked being around me because I was <em> me </em> , not because Johnny was inside my head. Now, the whole dynamic had shifted, and it left me feeling a little adrift. Where did I stand with Kerry? It sure did feel like we were still friends, but after he left me alone with my thoughts and those two guitars, I felt a little empty. I got up to look at the pair of them, and ran my fingers down the chords of Johnny’s, listening to the metallic <em> shhing </em>under my nails. I didn’t belong here. What Johnny and Kerry had going on here was a sixty year-old friendship, and I felt like the equivalent of Adam Smasher surrounded by corpos in pressed suits. </p><p> </p><p>“Oi, V.” </p><p> </p><p>Abruptly, I straightened, turning on my heel just in time to see Johnny coming towards me. I barely slung my arm - still holding the lit cigarette - over his shoulder as he gathered me up in his arms and kissed me. It made me pause for about a millisecond before I kissed him back - I mean, who was I to turn it down? It helped to chase away those thoughts, and replace them with other ones. Like getting back to the apartment, and breaking in the new mattress that’d turned up that morning. </p><p> </p><p>It would be a temporary high, it always was. Maybe that’s why Johnny always turned to sex again and again, rather than his problems. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s the big stupid grin for?” I asked when he broke away, and he backed off to guzzle down the rest of the bottle of bourbon left on the table. My brows inched higher to my hairline with every drop that disappeared down his throat.</p><p> </p><p>When it was emptied - leaving me wondering how much of Kerry’s eddies he’d just blown in one chug - he poked a finger at me.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re gonna get to see Samurai live, baby.” </p><p> </p><p>So not even Kerry was immune to Johnny’s puppy eyes. Well, that made two of us. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes, the "excellent" and in-sync air guitar was a reference to Bill and Ted. Credit to thatgaiagirl and silverhand-hoe on tumblr for putting that terribly-incredible idea in my brain!<br/>I love reading your thoughts on the chapter, so please leave a comment if you enjoyed! Also, as a side note, I've been just skipping over the "sex scenes" so far, but would you guys be interested in seeing some spicy chapters every so often? Please let me know your thoughts! </p><p>If you wanna come talk to me about Cyberpunk or see me thotting on a public platform over Johnny Silverhand's shiny ass in his tight leather pants, find me on tumblr under the username <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Precipice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>MARCH 14th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p><b>NIGHT CITY / </b> <b> Heywood, Wellsprings </b> <b> …04:58AM</b></p><p> </p><p>If I'd made any right choice since coming back to Night City, it was this. Johnny had very few concerns about the decoration of the apartment, and while he was usually demanding about silly things, the only thing he'd insisted we have here is a decent audio system. Which, right now was just turned off so we could enjoy the simple sounds from outside. My first choice, of course, was dumping our bed <em> right </em>in front of the balcony windows. Headboard to the left wall, and I'd called dibs on the left side of the bed; I couldn't very well look over his broad shoulders to see the beautiful sunrise we were watching, but he certainly could over mine. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn't watching it though. He wasn't exactly asleep, but he wasn't really awake, either; in that semi-comatose state he spent about half an hour in before he officially got up for the day. It was comforting, though. His legs were tangled with mine, arm wound around my middle, face tucked into the little crook between my neck and shoulder. Every time he fidgeted a little, his beard would tickle, and it felt like he was starting to do it on purpose just to get me. </p><p> </p><p>When I first met Johnny Silverhand, the last thought I'd pictured was this. First of all, he didn't seem like the cuddly type of person, not even with people he pretended to vaguely like. He'd shown splinters of affection in the memories I'd seen of his; like that time after a show, when he'd twined his fingers with Alt's, somehow it made me more shy to watch than when they'd fucked not five minutes before. Or the brief occasions where he'd show Kerry something more than the tough guy attitude, or he'd lose himself in the energy of a concert and share some of that very short-term love with his other bandmates. Even Rogue, I'd had vague flashes of the times he'd spent with her, so strangely… Soft for Johnny. It made me feel silly, warm and fuzzy inside, to know he was like that with me. He was comfortable, relaxed. His guard was down. </p><p> </p><p>It was just hilarious to me to compare this with the first time he'd touched me. When my head was so fucked from the first aftershocks of the biochip on that rainy night, when he'd managed to push past the boundaries of his engram to <em> slap </em>me. Slowly, he'd begun to show goddamn concern for me, touching me more often even if he didn't try to tame that temper of his. </p><p> </p><p>And then, just when we thought we couldn't take it anymore, of all the people in the world to let us just have one another, it was his ex. Alt gave us a goddamn gift - she saved my life, and his, and let us have each other. Its price would catch up to us but it didn't matter so long as Johnny was real and solid, and he could touch me and I could touch him. </p><p> </p><p>I didn't know if what we had nowadays had a name, really. I didn't really care. It was an upgrade from who we'd been when we met, and we were both happy with that. Content. Just like this one, quiet little moment. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, listen." I whispered, as if raising my voice any higher would scare off the little bird call that had begun outside. I mean, amongst it obviously there was the noise of early-morning traffic on the other end of the building, down out on the steers which would soon be bustling with cars and people going this way and that. The classic busy charm of Night City. But for now, the distant chirps across the bay was a welcome noise. </p><p> </p><p>"Seagulls." he murmured, upturning his face to set his chin on my shoulder. He cracked an eye open and shut it again immediately, like he'd regretted trying to look at the sky. "Motherfuckers. Stole my ice-cream." </p><p> </p><p>"What are you talkin' about?" I chuckled, running my nails gently up and down his arm. I wanted to ask him about those tattoos on this forearm one day - my own had their meanings so I was sure he had reasons. The one he'd gotten done on the inside of my elbow was stupid, but there was a deeper meaning behind the silly <em> Johnny + V </em>inside a heart that was originally a joke. It took us getting to this spot right here until I realised what it really meant. </p><p> </p><p>"Me and Ker." he continued, "On a beach in Cali, ice-cream cones. Nowhere did pistachio, so I was stuck with mint. Seagull comes outta nowhere and eats the whole fuckin' thing, half the cone too, in just one swoop." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted, and could picture the scene if I tried hard enough. I could hear Johnny's furious ranting and raving at a goddamn bird. Could picture Kerry losing his shit laughing, only to be forced to stifle it and wear a straight face when Johnny gave him that one look. The <em> you're in danger </em>look. </p><p> </p><p>"Who the fuck eats pistachio ice-cream?" I mused, and let out a surprised little yelp as he pinched at my waist. </p><p> </p><p>"Me, fuck you." </p><p> </p><p>"Ice-cream is meant to be sweet, dickhead."</p><p> </p><p>"It doesn't have to be. Lemme guess, your favourite flavour is strawberry?" </p><p> </p><p>"Obviously. Superior to all," I wriggled a little to see his unimpressed face pressed half into the pillow. His mouth opened to say something, but I cut him off before he could make an argument out of something so mundane - I didn't want him to ruin this moment. "Gotta admit, I'm pleasantly surprised you don't just like vanilla." </p><p> </p><p>Immediately his face shifted, and a little twitch appeared at his lips. Quirking a brow at me, he said, "You didn't figure that out already?" </p><p> </p><p>"Maybe I just needed a reminder." </p><p> </p><p>"You want it right now?" </p><p> </p><p>"Sure. I'm in need of a good mornin' stretch anyhow, rockerboy." </p><p> </p><p>It was a good thing the mattress was so soft. Probably would've broken something else by now if it wasn't. </p><p> </p><p>When we eventually rolled out of bed just past nine, after fucking and lounging, more lounging and fucking, we took it in turns to shower. I came out of mine to find Johnny mindlessly chewing on a box of breadsticks I'd stashed somewhere he wouldn't find them, and swiftly realised there was no hiding food in this place from him. While I kicked his ass to the shower, I turned the radio to the morning show on Night FM. It took about three seconds of upbeat pop to hear Johnny yelling from the shower to, "Turn this shit off!" </p><p> </p><p>Of course I ignored him and turned it up. </p><p> </p><p>I was slowly learning to cook. Between everything else that was going on, I was watching vids and cooking shows, trying to just pick up anything from little things like proper knife techniques to the way to fry things. Nothing I produced was without flaws, but it was good enough, and better than the shit I used to eat at home. Even better than spending eddies every day on eating out, too. </p><p> </p><p>I was in the middle of watching some strips of bacon in a pan sizzle and pop satisfyingly when I heard a buzz. It took me a second to realise what it was. It took three more rings to realise it was the front door; we'd had very few visitors, mainly delivery people who had no idea who we were. Wandering over to the terminal, I peered at the screen because I wasn't expecting anymore deliveries lately. Sure enough, this guy didn't look like any delivery man I'd ever seen, but he wasn't no corpo. He was… Oddly familiar. I'd seen him before, somewhere, but it was lost on me. He was wide, muscular beneath his gear, grizzled too with a worn face and a short grey beard to match his cropped hair. </p><p> </p><p>"Do I know you?" I said through the mic. It took a second for him to reply, and he turned to glare with an impressively firm scowl at the camera. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> No, but your boy toy does. Let me in </em>." his voice was as fittingly gruff as I thought it would be. </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh. Y'know what? I think I'll pass." </p><p> </p><p>I'd managed to return to the stove and turn over my bacon before the door buzzed again. Groaning, I padded back over, both unsurprised and annoyed the guy hadn't budged an inch. </p><p> </p><p>"Shove off, buddy, I don't know you." I tried again, folding my arms. Almost as if he could see me, he set his hands on his hips stubbornly, and something about his idle stance and even idler face was funny. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Rogue sent me </em>." he tried.</p><p> </p><p>"Sure she did." she would've just messaged me on the holo if she wanted me, maybe even called. Worrying that this dude seemed to know I had close ties with the Queen of the Afterlife, though - either he was very observant, or he knew who I was. Worse? He knew where I <em> lived </em>. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> You really don't want me to talk about this out here. The wrong people could hear me </em>." </p><p> </p><p>I huffed. I rather liked this apartment, I didn't wanna be forced to move already because some dickwad had found us out. Well, he wasn't going anywhere, so I mulled it over while I went back to my bacon. It was especially crunchy now, which was how Johnny liked it - me not so much. Sighing as I slipped it off onto a plate, I heard the shower die off in the bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>"Some guy's at the door." I said when Johnny came wandering out, towel round his waist, wet hair flattened to his head. I resisted the urge to violently scrub at it with a towel; it'd puff up immediately like a hedgehog. Curiously, he peered down at the terminal. "I told him to shove off but-" </p><p> </p><p>Johnny had already pressed the button on the keypad which opened the doors downstairs. </p><p> </p><p>"I know him." he said, with a strangely melancholic look on his face. His voice was low, serious. "It's okay. I know him." </p><p> </p><p>He dug through his half of the wardrobe to find some clothes to put on. I was a little too preoccupied blinking at him, a bit aghast, to put anything more on than his t-shirt and my undies. Still, his clothes were big enough to be a vaguely-skimpy dress on me, so it was okay so long as his buddy didn't take offence to female legs. </p><p> </p><p>By the time he was wearing some sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt, there was a knock at our door. Strange how he'd choose to <em> knock </em>, not just use the buzzer beside the door. Johnny opened the door while I sulked at the kitchen counter and munched on my bacon. I didn't like being wrong. </p><p> </p><p>"Good to see you, Rob." was the first thing outta the guy's voice when he'd stepped through the door. It felt wrong to see someone other than myself or Johnny in this apartment. This was <em> our </em>space, no one else belonged here. I still couldn't put my finger on where I'd seen him, either, and it was giving me the creeps.</p><p> </p><p>"That ain't my name." Johnny said with an eerie calm in his voice. He came over to the counter to take a strip of bacon off my plate. I contemplated sliding the plate away from him just to spite him, but if anything, we had to put on a united front against this stranger in our home. Though he wasn't so much a stranger to Johnny - or <em> Rob </em>.</p><p> </p><p>A conversation from a few weeks ago sprung into my head. A conversation between Johnny and Rogue which I'd had the pleasure of overhearing - Johnny getting so wildly pissed at the idea of being so much as likened to a Robert; Robert Linder. Trying to keep my face composed as the revelation washed over me, I regarded our guest warily. Johnny <em> was </em> Robert Linder! Robert Linder was Johnny Silverhand! Once upon a time, the world had looked upon the same guy across from me chowing down on my bacon with a respectable, normal name like Robert Linder. I mean, it made sense - I knew Silverhand wasn't his real surname, that much was obvious. But I thought <em> Johnny </em>was at least real. I hadn't considered his real first name was such a stretch from what he went by nowadays. </p><p> </p><p>"Very well." our guest said gruffly, hanging his thumbs from the inside of his belt. "It's good to see you, <em> John. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Is it really that hard?" Johnny grumbled, before firmly folding his arms while leaning against the counter in front of me. "Well, whaddya want? You could've come after me years ago. Why now?" </p><p> </p><p>"This will shock you, but not everything is about you." the older man grumbled, and Johnny huffed. "I'm here because nowadays, I'm in a slightly different line of work than we both used to. I'm in an industry your girlfriend is all too familiar with." </p><p> </p><p>"You're a merc?" I asked dryly. "Could've fooled me." </p><p> </p><p>Between his bulletproof vest, tool belt stocked with ammo, grenades, a rifle strapped to his back - he looked like a merc, sure. Maybe more of a corpo-bodyguard style guy. He was definitely better equipped than most gonks on the street. </p><p> </p><p>"I told you, Rogue sent me." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny barked a laugh, rubbing at his eyes as a little groan left him. It was obvious to everyone in the room that he was uncomfortable, and Johnny didn't do uncomfortable. He did angry. Yet now, he just seemed… Exasperated. Lost, almost. Like a part of himself he'd thought buried even longer ago than his own body had just come crawling back through his door when he'd least expected it. </p><p> </p><p>"Of course you work with Rogue. Why wouldn't you work with Rogue?" it was mostly to himself, under his breath, and our guest raised his brows. Sighing a heavy breath, Johnny looked up at him impatiently. "So whaddya want? What does <em> she </em>do want?" </p><p> </p><p>"First of all, she asked me to extend thanks for your assistance in her operation a few weeks ago." for an acquaintance of Johnny's, this guy spoke all prim and proper. It was a bit jarring against mine and Johnny's way of speaking. "Secondly, she wanted to share with you the progress of putting the data you secured to use. It was too risky to speak about on the holo." </p><p> </p><p>"But we're not important enough to get a personal invitation to speak with her about it at After?" I asked, standing up from my stool. "Coffee?" </p><p> </p><p>"Please." </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny?" </p><p> </p><p>His reply was dry. "I think I'll need something stronger." </p><p> </p><p>"You got it, baby." </p><p> </p><p>Our guest - who still hadn't introduced himself for all his politeness - continued as if I hadn't said anything about Rogue and her invitations. </p><p> </p><p>"The information Rogue now possesses grants her the opportunity to cut ties once and for all with Arasaka, as well as potentially other corporations that possess some control over the dealings in Night City." </p><p> </p><p>"So she's just goin' around admittin' she's dirty?" Johnny snorted, and angrily tore off the end of a new bacon strip. His metal fingers were twitching against the edge of the counter - out of anger or because his arm still needed seeing to, I couldn't tell. </p><p> </p><p>"She is admitting that, for unfortunate reasons, Arasaka has sway over her personal life and the lives of all those close to her through association." he nodded at the two of us, "Including you two, now. You are involved whether you like it or not." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh." I came over to him to hand over his cup of coffee - when he tried to take it, I didn't let it go long enough to give him this: "No one, buddy - fuckin' <em> no one </em>- drags me into their biz. I decide whether I'm involved or not." </p><p> </p><p>I let go, and he carefully took the cup off me as I retreated to the kitchen counter. I trickled a shot's worth of whiskey into Johnny's coffee and slid it to him. </p><p> </p><p>"Unfortunately, that is not something you get to decide," he said, and I breathed out lowly to stop myself from snapping. "When the Queen of the Afterlife says you're involved, you're involved, Miss <em> Vivian Frazier </em>." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny and I both knew exactly why this guy was holding our names over our heads like bait, just outta reach. It was dirt, and anyone who had any brains always used what they had on someone against them. Still, it wasn't like I had something to hide with my own name. Just shitty parents and a life I chose to forget in that home I ran from. No one could use Frazier against me, because it meant <em> nothing </em>to me. Though, I could imagine Robert Linder meant something to Johnny, even if he looked back at it with nothing but disdain. </p><p> </p><p>"Your surname's Frazier?" Johnny asked idly, looking back at me. It was a casual question, and I shrugged. "Meh, doesn't suit you." </p><p> </p><p>"Sucks, doesn't it?" </p><p> </p><p>Our guest cleared his throat. "Rogue will be doing a speech tonight inside Afterlife. She wished for me to give you context before you attend, so that you will pledge your support." </p><p> </p><p>"Support in what, exactly?" </p><p> </p><p>The old merc raised a brow, as if it were obvious. </p><p> </p><p>"Afterlife is bringing war upon Arasaka." </p><p> </p><p>… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>MARCH 14th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Watson, Little China :: The Afterlife … 10:47PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Turning up to After in Shit-heap was like arriving to a sleepover in a straight-jacket; it was uncomfortable, was completely inappropriate, and made everyone look at you like you were a psycho. Huffing, I got out of the cab, slamming the door shut behind me, and making certain to return any looks we got with glares. Johnny came up beside me at the back of the truck, offering me a cig as he flicked his lighter to life. For a short while we just stood there in silence, unwilling to go in. The whole situation had left us a bit at ends. Robert Linder's old pal had ruined our perfect morning, burning away the too-perfect bliss of a happy morning tumble. All that was left behind was the stinking reality of what we had to do now. </p><p> </p><p>After Rogue's little messenger had left, what had started as a calm conversation blew up into a row. Johnny was just packed full of pent-up frustration he'd wanted to unleash against the guy's face with his fists, as well as a burning - albeit strange - motivation to just sign up with whatever the fuck Rogue said. It was unlike him to submit to jumping through hoops for someone else, especially someone like Rogue who he himself had described as dirty on too many occasions now to count. I knew the real reason; he was just desperate to tear into Arasaka with his own hands. He wanted to rip it all down and burn what was left. Even if Johnny had changed with me, that part hadn't. That unending anger, that ever-burning rage that had been with him all his life. It had kept him going during dark times, and even now when he had something else to live for, he still turned back to it. </p><p> </p><p>That was what got me the most. <em> I </em> wasn't good enough. He just couldn't see my point, couldn't see that he had me, and we didn't need to bow down to Rogue. But he'd made up his mind the second his old buddy walked out. There was no use trying, and that was the part that made me so furious with him I wanted to scream. He'd put up a wall and didn't let me past, because <em> he </em>had decided what was best. Even if it wasn't, even if it was fucking terrible. I didn't wanna be a pawn in Rogue's war. </p><p> </p><p>At least they were right about one thing; saving my skin six months ago had forced my hand. I <em> was </em>involved already, because Arasaka would never let me live with the life they'd decided I wasn't allowed, the life I'd stolen back from their greedy fingers. </p><p> </p><p>It was me or them. And I wasn't going to bow to them, either. </p><p> </p><p>"Come on." Johnny said abruptly, pushing up off the back of Shit-heap where he'd been leaning. "Rogue'll want us in there." </p><p> </p><p>"Since when do you give a fuck about what Rogue wants?" </p><p> </p><p>I had already started walking, though. Leaving him behind. With his long strides he easily caught up, tossing away his cigarette behind us as we went. I was less careless with mine, pausing to grind it out under my heel before we descended the stairs. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, stop bein' so whiny." he went off dismissively as we entered After. The music was lower today, and it felt strangely tense - like the conversations that <em> were </em>happening were nervous because there was no noise to cover them up. "You're just fuckin' jealous I'm comin' to help Rogue, and not doin' jumpin' at your beck 'n call anymore." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck off. Just go find some corner to stay in." </p><p> </p><p>I didn't even bother to deny it as I left him by the door to beeline for the bar. He was wrong, but refusing it would provoke a new argument, and I'm pretty sure domestics were included in the list of no-no rules at After. I was so blindly angry with him that I couldn't believe that morning, I'd been so blissfully and stupidly happy. No matter how much I tried to call back how at ease, how simply content I'd been in his arms, in our bed, I couldn't emulate it now. I sank into a stool at the bar, and glared daggers at the Samurai merch on display on a shelf back there. </p><p> </p><p>"Heya, V. Rough day?" Claire strolled on up swiping a damp cloth along the bar as she did. I huffed, running a hand through my hair.</p><p> </p><p>"Somethin' like that." I grumbled. </p><p> </p><p>She looked to my left and right, "Where's Mr. V?" </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck 'im."</p><p> </p><p>"Ah. Yeah, I get what's up. Drink?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah." </p><p> </p><p>I sipped idly at the drink she served me while trying to drown out my thoughts with the music thumping through the stereo. Johnny - even though I was apparently <em> jealous </em> because he "wouldn't jump at my beck and call," - did exactly as I told him and stayed the hell away from me. He disappeared into some dark corner of this bar and for that I was grateful. I didn't have the patience to deal with his shit; I was just glad he'd stayed silent on the ride here. </p><p> </p><p>“Good evening, Miss Frazier.” </p><p> </p><p>The last thing I needed right now was Linder’s old bud, and yet as luck would have it, there he was, sinking into a stool beside me. He waved Claire over and she politely served him as she always did, leaving me to sulk with the reality of having this grizzled old merc beside me.</p><p> </p><p>“Callin’ me that ain’t gonna do nothin’.” I said, side-eyeing him. He looked tough, sure. But I could handle him if he gave me too much trouble, and unlike Arasaka, I could outrun Rogue if she was really that pissed I’d killed her guy. </p><p> </p><p>He shrugged. “I would prefer to keep things civil. So I feel I should refer to you as such.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then drop the pompous titles ‘n shit. Just call me V.” I finished the last swig of my drink, sighing as I set down the glass. “And you? What do I call you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Rob- Johnny has never mentioned me?” </p><p> </p><p>I took great satisfaction in turning on my stool to take a moment to look him down, then up again. Smiling sweetly, I shook my head. “Can’t say he ever has.”</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose he never talks about his days in service, much.” he says dismissively, and my satisfaction dried up faster than the film of alcohol left behind in my empty glass. “I was his commanding officer during the conflict in Mexico.”</p><p> </p><p>I raised my brows, but not in surprise. “Not a fuckin’ wonder he’s never spoken about you, then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is that so? He’s never told you much about those days, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t have to. I don’t push on people’s bad memories.”</p><p> </p><p>He still hadn’t told me his name, and it was beginning to piss me off. I waited pointedly while staring him directly in the eye, noting the colour of them was the exact same shade as his hair. After a long, awkward minute, he seemed to realise his mistake.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, I apologise. My name is Kyle Torres. But you, Miss V, can call me the Commander.” he offered, bowing his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Some sorta kink thing?”</p><p> </p><p>He, for one sweet second, looked absolutely horrified. “No, of course not. It is my street name, I suppose - much like you prefer the name V, and Robert prefers Silverhand.”</p><p> </p><p>“He doesn’t just prefer it, that’s his legal fuckin’ name.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Why </em> was I defending Johnny? I was pissed off at him, but I guess some sort of instinctive defence mechanism kicked in on his behalf. I mean, I’d like to think if wherever he was in here, someone was talking shit about me, he’d do the same. Partly, I think it was also just because I didn’t like this <em> Commander’s </em> attitude. He was so uptight and proper, spoke like a goddamn corpo, and boasted so readily about serving during the war. A war which most people on the streets could agree on hating. Why was Rogue hanging with this clown?</p><p> </p><p>“Rogue will be very pleased to see you here.” he said, and I somehow managed to withhold my groan as I waved Claire over again. </p><p> </p><p>“Gimme what I just had but make it stronger.” I instructed, and she gave me a sympathetic look.</p><p> </p><p>“It ain’t all that bad, y’know.” she said, as she set a glass out in front of me and began mixing up my drink. “Whatever he’s done, he’ll show that he’s sorry for it. Eventually, of course - usually takes them a while to realise it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh huh.”</p><p> </p><p>When she’d slid the glass over to me, I eagerly knocked back half of it in one swig. My tab here was getting larger every single goddamn time I came, but that was okay. I would’ve gladly gotten pissing drunk if I didn’t know Rogue was planning something big tonight. And while I was pretty sure everyone here thought I wouldn’t have a choice, I would prefer to be fully in control of my senses to agree to any of her propositions. </p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, it was at that moment that I spied the bright yellow of Rogue’s cropped sweater. Spinning on my stool, I leaned back against the bar as she passed me, giving me a polite nod. I gave her a little two-fingered salute from my forehead, though I would’ve preferred to just give her two fingers. She nodded to Torres, too, whose responding nod was almost a fucking bow. </p><p> </p><p>“When’s this speech then?” I called after her just before she waltzed off. She stopped without turning to look at me.</p><p> </p><p>“Soon.” she said simply, and continued on. </p><p> </p><p>“Great talk.” I muttered to myself, spinning back to face the bar. </p><p> </p><p>It was creeping on me again. That same feeling I'd felt at Kerry's the other week. That distant, vague feeling of emptiness. Loneliness. Even if I was surrounded by people in this bar, I felt like I was drinking all alone. For the last few months, until we returned to NC, despite everything things had been good. Great, even. It was me and Johnny against the world, and goddamn had we taken everything the world had thrown at us. We had the occasional spat, sure. We'd kissed, fucked, he'd ask me if I was still mad and I'd always say <em> no, of course not </em> because how could I be? Having him in my head, so close, but just out of reach; it was the longest-running fucking tease I'd ever put up with. Finally having him there, under my hands, having him real and physical and touching me. It made other things not matter, because it made me feel like I was important. He made me feel like I was worth something. </p><p> </p><p>That look in his eyes the first time we'd tumbled into a bed together. Afterwards, in the grim glow of the neon sign outside of the motel window, where all I could see was the edge of his face and the little crinkles near his eyes, brought on by his smile… </p><p> </p><p>It was beginning to feel like coming back to Night City wasn't so much for me anymore. I was building my connections back up, stretching out and regaining what I'd lost. But for Johnny, this was something else. This was about making a stand, a goddamn point. Arasaka had taken everything he cared about in this city from him and even if he had it back in his hands now, comfortably - <em> happily </em> - he'd still go and risk it all for his fucking revenge. He'd risk <em> me </em>for his fucking revenge. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn't me and Johnny against the world right then and there as I stared into the depths of my glass. It was Johnny versus Night City, and I was left dangling, waiting. Like he had been as the engram in my head. </p><p> </p><p>Torres didn't bother me, and for that I was glad. Maybe my glumness was seeping out of me like a bad smell, because eventually he got up and left me be. Idly, I swirled my drink in my glass, watching as its dark shades turned light under the neon green glow of After's bar. How many had I had? I should've been paying attention. What happened to being sober for Rogue's speech? </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck." I whispered, feeling my shoulders sink. I wanted to go backward. I wanted to go back to that morning, before I'd opened my eyes and found the satisfying weight of Johnny's leg over mine, the warmth of his chest against my back. I just wanted that moment forever on loop. The sea breeze and the evil seagulls cawing in the distance, before the city woke up. Before Johnny woke up, and opened his fucking mouth. </p><p> </p><p>Arasaka had ruined his life. Corporations had ruined his life before it had even started. Forced into war at how old? A fucking teenager? Spent the next however many decades high, drunk, screaming his anger into a microphone hoping that one day he might feel better. But he never did, waking up the next morning with a different girl with an unfamiliar face in his bed, head splitting, throat raw. But he'd get on stage again and keep screaming, screaming and screaming and praying someone would hear him. And then the one good thing he might've had with Alt he fucked up, and then the corporations took her too. </p><p> </p><p>And then he died. Alone, and painfully, because no one had heard him screaming. </p><p> </p><p>With a sudden jolt, I woke back up again at After's bar. I was still sitting upright, I'd never actually <em> fallen asleep </em>. But just thinking about it had felt so fucking real - I'd felt Johnny's rage, his pain. The violent fear that had run through him when Arasaka had their hands on him. </p><p> </p><p>I didn't want Johnny to agree to Rogue's war, but I got it. I understood. While he had this grudge, this pain clinging onto his back, he'd never be free to live the second chance at life Alt had given him. With a sigh, I swigged off the rest of my drink, getting to my feet and finding the ground was solid - proving I hadn't drunk too many. If this is what Johnny needed to move on, then I'd do it. After all, he'd saved my life, and it was time I repaid the favour. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue was in her usual booth, in the middle of a call, and with her was Torres as well as a handful of others I didn't recognise. She saw me approaching and continued her conversation on the holo while maintaining perfect, steady eye contact with me. When finally she decided she was done, she let out a sigh first before addressing me. </p><p> </p><p>"V." she said, politely enough. </p><p> </p><p>"Rogue. Where's Johnny?" </p><p> </p><p>"I don't know. He was with you, wasn't he?" </p><p> </p><p>There was no way he'd kept himself busy this whole time without seeing Rogue. So she was lying, right through her teeth. An errant thought wriggled its way into my head that threatened to send my anger at him ablaze again; had he told Rogue about our argument? About how I'd called her a callous, selfish bitch, and he was letting himself be crushed under her thumb? Or how I'd told him he was a selfish prick, desperate to get himself killed for a second time. Demanded to know if ending Arasaka once and for all was worth losing what we'd have to put on the table at a chance of winning… What? A freer free city? We'd never be fucking free. The pessimist in Samurai's best records had always been Johnny's voice, yet somehow he'd managed to squash it back down at the slightest glimmer of hope. </p><p> </p><p>But I refused to let it get to me. If he'd told Rogue, then it felt too private, like she was privy to dirt she would never have had otherwise. But similarly, I'd seen so much of her own relationship with Johnny. The things they'd talked about, the things they'd done. Maybe I would finally get a taste of that sick medicine if Johnny had told her; was that why Rogue hated me so much? Because I'd seen what I had to gain by risking it with Johnny, and known where she'd gone wrong? Known how to make it work? </p><p> </p><p>I was being unfair. Rogue had tried - Johnny hadn't. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks." I said dryly, though she'd done nothing for me. </p><p> </p><p>"Why don't you stay and join us for a chat, V?" asked Rogue as I turned on my heel. God-fucking-dammit. I couldn't very well say no to the Queen of the Afterlife, could I? Keeping my sigh to myself, I turned back around, and found Rogue ushering away the one merc on her right to make room for me. Fuck this, why <em> right </em>next to her? </p><p> </p><p>As I sank into the booth, I had to think hard. <em> What </em>exactly was I mad at Rogue for? Pinpoint it down to one thing and one thing only. She was pissed at me for some reason sure, and usually I fought fire with fire. Then there was that little matter of avoiding me, and on top of that, sending the Commander as a message boy rather than just talking to me straight. That also meant she knew where I lived, and how, exactly? Had she had someone follow us home? How many other gonks knew? </p><p> </p><p>Most importantly, she was using Johnny's feelings against him, to force him into this little crusade. And on his behalf, I was furious as fuck. He didn't confront his own feelings, and that was now backfiring on both of us because he couldn't move on from what Arasaka did. He didn't <em> have </em>to, but he also didn't need Rogue barging in and forcing him to take that rage and make it into a weapon. </p><p> </p><p>So, in a priority list: using Johnny, being creepy as fuck and just knowing where I lived, and because she was mad at me. That's why I was mad at Rogue. </p><p> </p><p>"Everyone, this is V." Rogue introduced, as I sunk back into the couch. I could've really done with a smoke, but since Johnny was off fuck-knows-where with my half, I would have to settle for silent longing. Her little cluster of mercs looked at me - I knew Torres, but the rest were strangers. Rogue gestured back at me with a flourish of her hand. "Arasaka's so-called <em> angel of death </em>." </p><p> </p><p>With great difficulty, I resisted the urge to groan and roll my eyes. Rogue's company looked me up and down, sizing me up, judging whether I fit their expectations of such a stupid, lofty title. She had them all introduce themselves but I didn't have the space in my brain to remember them, nor did I really care there and then. I nodded vaguely, and wished I had another drink in my hand, but I'd already had enough. </p><p> </p><p>They idly chatted away about things, and for most of it, I managed to keep a poker face and maintained a casual, semi-bored posture. After all, I couldn't let Rogue think I was eager to get out, but I also didn't want her thinking I was afraid or nervous. Because I really wasn't - the only thing that could make me afraid nowadays was the idea of going down without a fair fight. Thankfully, I had the music to occupy me without having to listen into Rogue's conversation with her goons. I didn't even realise <em> Chippin' In </em> was playing until I was tapping out peculiar patterns with my left hand against my knee. Once I'd realised it, I suddenly couldn't do it anymore. Like my body had found some buried memory of the guitar chords, and the second I was conscious of it, it spat that part of Johnny back onto the back burner. Still, if I had it stored somewhere in my brain, that meant it might've been possible to pick up guitar someday. What sort of person would I be if I didn't make use of the fingers of one of the most famous rockerboys in history? </p><p> </p><p>"Incoming, Aldecaldos." called the Commander. Suddenly alert, my eyes leapt up to the door to Afterlife; I struggled to reign in my big stupid grin at the sight of an old friend taking strong strides up to where I sat with Rogue. She definitely wasn't here for me - she didn't even know I was back in town - but the look of pleasant surprise on her face when she looked at me next to Rogue was the best excuse I could've found to get outta here. We'd have to catch up, after all. </p><p> </p><p>"Rogue." Panam greeted politely, but coldly. Mitch was with her too, but I didn't recognise the other gal with them. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue ducked her head in a small nod, but didn't bother to stand to greet her properly. "Panam. Pleasure to have you here again." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. You said you had business for us?" </p><p> </p><p>"All will be revealed soon - make yourselves at home, get a drink."</p><p> </p><p>Evidently that hadn't been part of Rogue's message. I knew Panam fucking hated working with Rogue, hated being a pawn on Night City's chessboard, but if she had been unfortunately foolish enough to step foot in Afterlife tonight, it was too late. She'd already signed the Aldecaldos up to this, whether it was on our side or NC's. At least we were in the same boat. </p><p> </p><p>"If you'll excuse me Rogue and… Co." I decided upon after realising I didn't know their names. I got up, straightening up the bottom of my leather jacket. "I'll go help the Aldecaldos settle in. Club's aren't their scene." </p><p> </p><p>"Sure." Rogue said dismissively, and the look in her eye proved she knew what I was up to. She just didn't care. Having me sit here with her was just a show of power, after all - showing she could command this and that and make me kneel. What she didn't know was that I was playing along, for now. I could get out at any time. I'd ran away from Night City twice now; there was only so far she'd bother chasing me for. </p><p> </p><p>The problem would be Johnny. I didn't know if he'd leave this behind. </p><p> </p><p>Panam grinned when I joined them outside the booth, and I led them back toward the bar with a smile of my own. It was so good to see her, so much so I had to resist the urge to hug her and make myself look soft in front of all of After. She and the Aldecaldos had been the last familiar, friendly faces I'd seen after leaving NC after all - after fleeing the city boarders, the only place I could think of was them, and sticking to their word, they helped hide me and Johnny until it just became too dangerous. I'd stayed with them about a week before we had to keep running to get away from Arasaka. </p><p> </p><p>"How are things?" I asked when we'd settled into barstools, Mitch and their friend joining us. "Hey, Mitch." </p><p> </p><p>"V." he nodded at me. </p><p> </p><p>"Going, as usual." Panam shrugged. "But, they are not terrible, so I can't complain. You?" </p><p> </p><p>"Pretty okay, all things considered. Got myself a nice place with a nice view, still drivin' a shitty car. Got into a huge ass fight and broke my arm within the first two days of bein' back. Just great, really." </p><p> </p><p>Panam chuckled, "The usual, then." </p><p> </p><p>Claire came to serve us and I paid for the Aldecaldos' drinks. I had to pay them back somehow, and this was a small but decent start. </p><p> </p><p>"Where's Saul?" I asked, "He not here for Rogue's big job?" </p><p> </p><p>Her face darkened at the mention of her joint-leader, and she groaned. "He has decided he no longer wants to do business with the city." </p><p> </p><p>"But you've decided otherwise?" </p><p> </p><p>"Well…" Panam heaved a sigh. "You cannot escape it, in truth. I don't think I'll ever be able to break away." </p><p> </p><p>"I know that feelin'." </p><p> </p><p>At that moment, out of the corner of my eye at the other end of the bar, I spied Johnny. His arm first, and then I looked up at his face just in time to catch his eye. He was about to look elsewhere immediately, and I don't think he expected me to beckon him over rather than doing the same and avoiding his gaze. Still, he couldn't resist me. I could see his shoulders sink with his disgruntled sigh, but then he spun up off his stool and brought his drink with him. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, you remember Panam." I said. </p><p> </p><p>He nodded, and said nothing as I reached into the ass-pocket of his pants for his cig case. He shot me an evil grin when I snapped it open to find it empty. "Sure, how could I not?" he said, turning his attention back to Panam. "The ass for days chick." </p><p> </p><p>Panam took it in her stride. She clicked her fingers and pointed at him. "Oh, yes! The dead man with the god complex." </p><p> </p><p>"I do not have a god complex." </p><p> </p><p>"Mhm, sure. But I have a great ass." </p><p> </p><p>"What's she doin' here anyway?" Johnny asked me, planting his metal hand on the bar behind me rather than sit on the end and be cut out of the convo. "I thought you were all free-with-the-wind types." </p><p> </p><p>"She's here for Rogue's <em> announcement </em>." I said dryly. </p><p> </p><p>"Announcement?" Panam echoed, looking between the both of us, "You mean to say it isn't a job?" </p><p> </p><p>"It's a job alright, but not what you were prolly expecting." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck. Damn Rogue, that bitch." </p><p> </p><p>"Careful, the last time someone called Rogue a bitch in here, they got the shit beaten out of them." I eyed Johnny at my side, and the only evidence that he'd acknowledged it was the tiny twitch of his lips. It quickly vanished though as he nodded subtly toward the door. </p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck are Maelstrom doin' here?" he asked lowly, leaning toward me. I don't know what he was asking me for, because why would I have a clue? Still, conversations died out for a second to regard the new patrons who stared right back with their beady chrome eyes. It wasn't exactly disallowed for Maelstrom to come in here, nor any gang. But out of all of them, Maelstrom were usually the most likely to incite fights, and on Rogue's turf, it usually wasn't worth the losses to end it on their terms. I'd seen the stray one or two in here a handful of times. Not an entire group together - I counted about seven. </p><p> </p><p>"I don't know but it sounds like bad fuckin' news." I muttered. The Maelstrom group came in, and passed by us on their way to Rogue. Torres was obviously now filling in for Weyland, who hadn't been fortunate to survive being a mad man and flying me into Arasaka Tower; the Commander got to his feet as they approached, blocking their entry until their leader seemed to trade a few words with him. Then, only he was allowed into Rogue's booth, while the rest were sent off to make themselves at home in some dark corner where only their beady red eyes could be seen. </p><p> </p><p>"You have some idea about what this announcement is then, V?" Panam asked me, tapping me on the arm to turn me back toward her. I didn't know how wise it would be of me to spill Rogue's plans before she was ready to tell the world, but I also trusted Panam more than her. She also didn't deserve her and her family to be dragged into this war without knowing what she was getting herself into. </p><p> </p><p>So I learned toward her, beckoning her close. I told her what I knew, what information could've been in the haul we stole from Nobuharu - I still didn't know in detail myself. And what the Commander had told us she was planning to do with it, the shackles she was planning on breaking. Shackles on herself, and on Night City.</p><p> </p><p>Panam didn't seem surprised. "And was this brought on by what happened with you?" she asked, gesturing at myself and Johnny. She knew everything already - I'd confided in her after fleeing Night City, because she'd pressed me even when I'd told her it was dangerous for her to know. <em> We are already risking it by harbouring you, </em> she'd said, <em> You can tell me, V.  </em></p><p> </p><p>"Prolly." I shrugged, "Rogue's basically admitted she's dirty, been in the pocket of corpos this whole time. So she can't back out now, that news'll spread like wildfire. Can't tarnish her obviously squeaky clean image. Plus, with Arasaka so crippled, now's the only time we could stand a chance."</p><p> </p><p>"We?" she echoed, and for very understandable reasons, she was surprised. While I could see eye to eye with Rogue, oftentimes I couldn't get in her head and see her perspective. Panam, on the other hand, was a friend - we agreed on most things, and Rogue being manipulative was one of them. So hearing I'd already signed up? Probably a bit of a shock. </p><p> </p><p>"I started this whether I wanted to or not, and Arasaka's down on its knees 'cuz of me. If I don't take this chance, they'll get back up stronger than ever. Then nowhere'll be safe for me, Pan." </p><p> </p><p>She hummed, mulling over a beer. "This is bad, V." she said, scratching behind her ear, "Saul would never agree to go to war with the corpos, you know what he is like about them. Stopping him from selling out to one was one thing, but using our family to fight one?" </p><p> </p><p>"I know, Panam, I know. I don't wanna risk the Aldecaldos either, and I'm not tryna get you involved. I just wanted to give you a heads up - if Rogue has <em> anything </em>on you, you need to get out now. Or she'll do everythin' in her damn power to get her hands on you and that basilisk of yours for free."</p><p> </p><p>"Think it's too late for that." Johnny said lowly beside me. I turned to look his way - behind him Rogue was coming out of her booth, and her little posse were on her heels. </p><p> </p><p>"Shut the music off." she called to Claire, who - despite the disgruntled look on her face - went and did as she was told. When a sudden silence cut in where music had filled before, conversations went dead. Rogue waved her hands up in the air, and if the sudden lack of music failed to catch attention, that didn't. "Anyone who has half a brain and iron in their pocket, follow me." she shouted, and her voice carried through the cold corridors of After's mortuary. </p><p> </p><p>I threw back the last of my drink, heaving a sigh as I set the glass back down. Like a kindly gentleman, Johnny offered his metal hand to me, which I took to stand. I couldn't read him - physically, at least. He was wearing an impressively passive poker face, but as we, joined by the Aldecaldos, followed after the group getting larger and larger as we went through the club, I gave his brain a little poke. If he wanted to let me see, I would've been able to feel exactly as he felt. Except all I was left with was my own dread mixed with anger to make a really ugly concoction. So he didn't wanna show me, that was fine. I just made a note in my head not to let him see mine for the foreseeable future. </p><p> </p><p>There was a side room in After I’d nosed in a few times where there was an old school snooker table no one ever used for actually playing snooker. Today was one of those occasions - Torres swiped off the belongings of whichever poor gonk had been unwinding in here until just now, and Rogue climbed up atop it. With Panam on one side, and Johnny on my other, we hung back by the wall as the crowd of mercs grew bigger around the table. There was a good few dozen of people clustered into the space, talking between themselves, probably wondering what the fuck was going on. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve called you all here because there’s one thing in common we all share.” Rogue began, planting her hands on her hips. “It ain’t that we’re mercs. It’s ain’t even that we’re all at the best club in town.”</p><p> </p><p>A little wave of agreeing yells erupted from the crowd, and I rolled my eyes. She hadn’t even said anything impressive yet, but the reaction she was garnering just from blowing smoke up her own ass was a good sign so early into her little speech. </p><p> </p><p>“The one thing we all have in common,” she continued, “Is that we’re tired of our fucking corpo overlords.”</p><p> </p><p>A mixed reception to that one; a few murmurs broke out while others whole-heartedly agreed. It was a risky-ass thing to say, I supposed, especially by someone in Rogue’s position of power. Power that had been handed to her by said corpo overlords. </p><p> </p><p>Out of her pocket she produced a tiny little shard. It was plain black, but the light reflected off a tiny silver strip down the side. She showcased it to the mercs gathered around the snooker table. “You know what this is?” she asked, and obviously no one tried to answer, “<em> This </em> is the key to our prison cell. There’s enough intel in my hand to bury Arasaka once and for all.”</p><p> </p><p>I was seriously hoping Rogue had thought this all through properly, because there was <em> no </em> way of going back now. This plan wasn’t exactly great - sure, we might by some miracle take down Arasaka, but what then? Would she tackle another organisation? Try to tear down <em> corporal colonialism </em>? I glanced sideways at Johnny, and it was a bit of a surprise he was already looking at me and not Rogue. He didn’t say anything, nor share anything. I couldn’t get a read on him. And then he just looked back at Rogue, hanging his thumbs from his belt. </p><p> </p><p>She’d safely pocketed the shard again, and by then she was staring at <em> me </em> through the crowd. It was a little startling to see her looking directly at me, and she beckoned me over wordlessly. Shit. If I was going, I was taking Johnny with me, and he had already seemed to decide he was coming. We worked our way through the crowd, and as more people turned to look at who Rogue was waiting for, a strange sort of excitement began to buzz around the room. Not at me, I didn’t think, but at Johnny. People knew his face - people knew his <em> arm </em>. They knew what he’d done in the name of freedom for this city before, they knew the words to his songs, the lyrics he’d shared with the world about the corrupt and the repressed under their heel. A living legend once dead was walking and breathing in the same room as them. The same room in which the Queen of the Afterlife was talking such blasphemy as inciting war against a corporation so powerful they could wipe out half the planet in one swoop.</p><p> </p><p>Or at least, maybe they could’ve if Alt Cunningham wasn’t burning through their systems one by one. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re seein’ right, people!” called Johnny as he hopped up onto the pool table beside Rogue, holding out his arms as if he was on display. “Take a long, hard look. Silverhand’s back, baby.”</p><p> </p><p>I really didn’t wanna get up on that table with them. But Rogue held a hand out to me, and there was absolutely no way I could refuse it now. So I took it, and clambered up onto the table with them. It was hard for Rogue to regain control of the so-called speech with Johnny beckoning for the cheers and further inflation of his ego. </p><p> </p><p>“Point fucking being!” Rogue yelled, and the crowd settled. Johnny, satisfied with a big stupid grin on his face, set his hands on his hips. She shot him an exasperated look, before turning back to the crowd. “This woman right here - Arasaka’s own angel of death! V - she single-handedly infiltrated Arasaka Tower and flooded their systems with a virus so strong it’s decimating them from the inside out. All we gotta do is clean up the mess. Tonight, we begin the fight for this city’s freedom. Tonight, we take the fight to the corpos. Who’s with me?”</p><p> </p><p>Thank fuck she hadn’t expected me to add to the speech in any way. Unsurprisingly, the room exploded into roars of agreement - Rogue had set it up, and Johnny’s mere presence had knocked ‘em down. It really felt like even though we were only on top of a snooker table, we were at the top of a precipice. Like there was no way back from here, and while Rogue and Johnny leapt ahead of me with ease, I was holding back. I was afraid of committing to something that could tear down my world. I’d started this because I had no choice, because I was dying and I had nothing to lose if I failed. But now there were stakes - I had the rest of my goddamn life, and so did Johnny. I thought we’d been on the same page with how we were gonna spend them. </p><p> </p><p>He hopped off the table with Rogue. Evidently not. </p><p> </p><p>They were swarmed with mercs from this way and that, and he seemed to be enjoying the attention. Sighing, I felt like I’d been awake for days, and sunk down to sit on the edge of the table when people lost interest in it. I was alone only for a little while in that huge crowd, until Panam elbowed her way through.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay, V?” she asked, and I nodded quickly. Maybe a bit too quickly, because she quirked a brow at me. “You sure?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Promise.” I shot her a smile, scratching the back of my neck. “Just a bit tired, I think. Spent all goddamn day bein’ angry, and now I gotta pretend to be excited about this bullshit.”</p><p> </p><p>She shrugged, tucking a loose curly strand of hair behind her ear. It did nothing, because it bounced right back. Panam’s curls were like an entity all on their own - while I had Johnny doing shit in my head, she had her hair rebelling at every opportunity. </p><p> </p><p>“I had not really expected a full speech.” admitted Panam, folding her arms, “But I’m unsurprised; it is very much in Rogue’s style to do a little power play.”</p><p> </p><p>“You know it.” </p><p> </p><p>Well, at the very least, while the entirety of Afterlife would spend tonight sucking up to Rogue’s ass, I had a good drinking buddy. Panam seemed to agree, and we headed right for the bar where we spent the rest of the night, doing our goddamn hardest to ignore the excited buzz at the prospect of war. It was such a bizarre idea, to be excited about this. To <em> want </em> to be involved in a conflict like this, to <em> want </em> to gamble everything you held dear. I wasn’t a stranger to willingly walking into fights for personal gain, but this was something else. This was bigger than me, it wasn’t just myself I stood to lose anymore. Risking myself was fine. Risking the people I cared about?</p><p> </p><p>I didn’t wanna lose someone again. Not after Jack. </p><p> </p><p>So I got blinding drunk. I’d regret it tomorrow, but right then? I wanted to think about absolutely fucking nothing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A little less light-hearted than the last few chapters lol, but I hope you enjoyed! What is Rogue planning? :eyes:</p><p>If you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment! Find me on tumblr as <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a>! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Full Circle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>MARCH 14th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Watson, Little China :: The Afterlife … 0:01AM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>My cyberware was great for literally <em> everything </em>. Until it wasn’t, and it found ways to kill my buzz, flushing any and all alcohol out of my system with one messy session kneeling over a toilet bowl. When it was clear my body was done kicking the shit out of itself, and no more vomit was gonna make an appearance, I clambered to my feet and flushed it away. For a little while, I stood there, hands tangled up in my hair against my skull, trying to think past the pounding, past the distant thump of Afterlife’s music. These toilets had definitely seen their fair share of drunkards, but I was really starting to get tired of them. </p><p> </p><p>Leaving the cubicle, I set my hands down on the counter, staring at my reflection in the mirror. The red of my eyes shone back at me - some silly cosmetic thing I’d gotten done as a laugh years back, and found I actually liked. Was probably a good thing too, because it would’ve been too expensive to fix if I hadn’t. Sighing, I wet my fingertip and wiped away the smudges of eyeliner starting to make me look like I had black eyes, having to resort to bits of tissue paper to properly get rid of it. Thousands of years of human existence, and we still hadn’t perfected the art of truly immovable eyeliner. </p><p> </p><p>I was in the middle of taking care of my left eye when Panam came in. I wasn’t surprised, because I’d told her where I was going, but she took one look at the tissue in my hand, against my eye, and the sudden wash of concern that overtook her was so severe that it gave me whiplash.</p><p> </p><p>“V? Are you okay? What is wrong?” she came to me, looking ready to give me a bear hug if I asked. My brows hiked up my forehead, and when she took a closer look at what I was actually doing, she backed off and gave me an awkward smile. “Sorry. I don’t know why I thought you were crying.”</p><p> </p><p>The mistake was easy enough to laugh off. Spending the evening with Panam had lifted my spirits a bit, catching up with her and Mitch after so long. Sometimes I regretted not being able to accept her offer of joining the Aldecaldos. They were living the life; free, not chained by anyone’s rules, and they had each other always watching their backs. Maybe if they weren’t wrapped up in this mess with me, I would’ve finally said yes. </p><p> </p><p>“Uh, Pan, I think I’m gonna head home.” I said while she lingered beside me, looking up at me with a polite, <em> hm? </em> when I spoke up. “I’m tired, and who knows? Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and all this was just a bad dream.”</p><p> </p><p>She offered me a smile. “I don’t know, it has not been all that bad.” she elbowed me, “You and I got to catch up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I mean aside from that. Y’know, the whole Queen of the Afterlife wagin’ war on Arasaka thing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, yes. <em> That. </em> Saul is not going to be happy.”</p><p> </p><p>“When isn’t he?”</p><p> </p><p>Panam had already been forced to give Rogue support of the Aldecaldos. She actually had us swear goddamn allegiance to the cause, starting with Johnny to make an example out of him. He hadn’t seem all too pleased about it, but he’d still done it, forcing my hand too. It had begun a long chain of pledges and promises, and when attention was thrown on Panam, there was little she could do; either join and be on the side of the underdogs, risking getting utterly crushed - or defy them and be refused entry to Night City so long as Afterlife still stood.</p><p> </p><p>Saul probably wouldn’t have minded Panam not being allowed into the city. She’d probably cause less trouble for her family that way, but I was sure the two of us agreed that Saul needed that trouble otherwise his life would be terribly dull.</p><p> </p><p>“Will you be alright from here?” I asked, straightening myself up before I went back out. Sure, now I was completely sober, but I looked like I’d already gone through the entire hangover stage and recovery within a half hour. I ran my fingers through my hair, brushed off my clothes, made myself look a little more respectable. </p><p> </p><p>“Of course, we can take care of ourselves.” Panam said with a smile, “We might not be city folk, but we do know how to handle the streets and their thugs.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cool.” </p><p> </p><p>I mean, I was feeling nervous about leaving Panam here anyway, no matter what she said. Mitch and that other Aldecaldo girl had her back, and she could kick ass all on her own, but that didn’t change that one fundamental thing: they didn’t know the city like the gonks that stalked it did. They were outta their depth like any street kid would be out in the Badlands. Still, I’d managed well enough out there over the last six months, I was sure Panam would be okay. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna guess we’ll be seein’ each other soon.” I said when we’d headed back out into Afterlife’s main floor, having to speak a little louder now that the music was almost deafening again. </p><p> </p><p>“Good! I could not imagine being forced to do Rogue’s dirty work without you, V.”</p><p> </p><p>I snorted. Fuck it - I drew her into a quick hug, patting her back before leaving her with Mitch at the bar. And now somewhere in this gods forsaken bar, Johnny was keeping himself entertained; I’d at least give finding him an attempt before I just drove home on my own. Sure, he’d been a bit of a dick, and I was still angry about everything that had happened today, but right now it was just simmering very gently at the back of my mind. He could set it to flames literally <em> any </em> second he opened his mouth, of course, but I’d give him the benefit of the doubt just so we could get home safely.</p><p> </p><p>Predictably, he was in Rogue’s booth. He wasn’t sitting beside her and trying to worm his way back into her good books, because he had another opportunity to enlarge his ego by talking to her posse about himself. It was all fine, of course - what wasn’t was the one chick sat on his left, seconds away from basically draping herself across his lap. </p><p> </p><p>I was starting to reconsider giving him his body back. </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry to break up the party,” I said as I stepped in, because Torres didn’t even get up to stop me. Johnny trailed off mid-sentence, looking up at me with a blatantly plain expression, as if nothing was wrong. Still, I didn’t look at him, but at Rogue, because I was addressing her; unfortunately she had the satisfaction of looking at me, vaguely amused. Maybe my annoyance was on my face. “I’m headin’ out. Gratz on your speech and all that, Rogue.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.” she smiled faintly at me, before tapping her temple. Her eyes flashed blue, and within a second, my account was a few hundred eddies heavier. </p><p> </p><p>“What’re they for?”</p><p> </p><p>“My gratitude for your support. I hope I can carry on countin’ on you, V.”</p><p> </p><p>God-fucking-damnit. She was trying to lure me in, like it was just any other job, and I’d get paid all the same. But it <em> wasn’t </em> just any job, it <em> wasn’t </em> the same. And Rogue was making a bold assumption by thinking she can ply me with eddies like any other merc - I wanted them, sure. Would I be her lapdog for it? Doubtful.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.” I said plainly, without any real feeling in my voice. I’d play along for <em> now </em>. </p><p> </p><p>I didn’t even bother saying anything to Johnny. He’d been looking at me long enough to be a clever boy and figure it out. Yet I’d reached Afterlife’s door and he hadn’t caught up to me - I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of looking back. Up the stairs, out the door, into the dingy parking lot. Shit-heap stood out between the sleek looking street cars, and it plummeted my mood even lower being forced to gently ease open the door to the driver’s seat to avoid scratching the paint job of my neighbour. Settling my hands around the steering wheel, I breathed in, then out. I just wanted something to steady me. </p><p> </p><p>The leather was cold against my forehead when I leaned forward to rest against it. What was I fighting this for? Didn’t I want this - didn’t I want to take down Arasaka so I could live the rest of my life without looking over my shoulder? Why was I overwhelmed with this will to resist it, to fight against the fight? Maybe I was just… Afraid. Afraid of facing the thing I’d been running, afraid of risking everything just for a flimsy chance at being free. We end Arasaka, then what? Keep fighting every big corp that rolls into Night City until the day a bullet stops my heart? </p><p> </p><p>What did I <em> actually </em> want, if not that? I’d once said that I wanted nothing more than to go out in one big blaze of glory, but the idea felt like the last thing my heart desired. That dumb thing pumping in my chest craved something, and I didn’t want to admit it. That felt too real, too important, too… Not like me. Admitting to Johnny that he was anything more than an outlet reeked of too many feelings, and he didn’t want that. The last person he’d felt such a powerful attachment to was Alt, and I only knew that because <em> I’d </em> felt it through him. And for some reason, I had a suspicion he wasn’t over her. </p><p> </p><p>What we had was easy. It was simple. Would I muddy it up, overcomplicate it if I opened my mouth? And what would that accomplish? It wouldn’t change anything, it wouldn’t stop what Rogue’s started. </p><p> </p><p>I leapt out of my skin at the sound of the door to the truck opening up. Johnny hauled himself into the passenger side, letting out a long sigh as he sunk into the leather seat, and when the door slammed shut again, we returned to silence. I hadn’t really expected him to follow me so I was a little stunned. When I heard the leather creak with his movement, I looked at him; his head was laid back, titled just a bit to the side to peer at me. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re mad.” he observed - wasn’t a question. </p><p> </p><p>“I was mad earlier. You didn’t care then.” I said simply. The hairs on his forearm were stood on end, so I turned on the ignition so the cab would warm up. </p><p> </p><p>He sighed softly, turning to stare blankly at the wall outside the windscreen. “I care now.” </p><p> </p><p>I almost did the childish thing and asked him <em> why not earlier? </em> but I didn’t have the energy. Instead I pulled Shit-heap out of park, and then back onto the road. For a while, as we disappeared then reappeared under the yellow glow of street lights overhead, things were quiet. Then, out of the corner of my vision, I saw Johnny offer me something.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that?” I asked without taking my eyes off the road.</p><p> </p><p>“My last cig.” he said, and I frowned as I took it from him.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought your case was empty?”</p><p> </p><p>“It was. I’d stashed the last one because I knew you’d try to take it.” he lit it for me between my lips. “You’re a sneaky bitch like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not wrong.” I took a drag, then held it between my fingers against the wheel. The streets flew by outside the windows. “So, that it then? This a peace offerin’?”</p><p> </p><p>“Kinda. I have a better one for when we’re back at our place.”</p><p> </p><p>Predictable. One hundred percent predictable, because every time we argued about something, that was always how we worked it out. We’d fall into bed and our spat would just fade away. Worst part was? It worked wonders to help me forgive him every damn time. It wasn’t just about the sex. It was the way he’d murmur into the pillow beside me afterward, asking me if he was still in my bad books. The way he’d look at me with those brown puppy dog eyes. How, even if at the time it had felt vehement and hurtful, the things he’d said he hadn’t meant. He promised once he’d get better at reining in his anger, thinking before he spoke. It was slowly happening - <em> slowly </em>. </p><p> </p><p>When I stopped the truck in the little parking bay outside the apartment building, neither of us wanted to look too eager so we just lingered for a bit. He looked at me and I looked at him, and a silent agreement passed through our gaze and we got out, abandoning Shit-heap for the night in favour of getting warm some place else. We were barely through the door when he’d shoved me up against a wall, his body crowding over mine as he pressed a hungry, open-mouthed kiss to my lips. I felt bad about our neighbours - we still hadn’t introduced ourselves, and there we were, making a mockery of their peaceful quiet all day everyday.</p><p> </p><p>“Johnny-” I barely breathed out against his lips; his hands were roaming, catching on my jacket and prying it off, finding the hem of my shirt.</p><p> </p><p>“Say stop and I’ll stop.” he offered. If I was really pissed off at him, I could say no - he always offered me that, and there had been occasions where I’d taken him up on his offer. Those had been particularly bad rows - he’d done something reckless or stupid, or we’d gotten heated and he’d said something so horrid that he’d tried to immediately take it back because he hadn’t meant it. Yet it still stung. </p><p> </p><p>Now wasn’t one of those times. </p><p> </p><p>I wound my arms around his neck and drew him back to me, melting into the touch of his lips on mine. "Don't stop," I whispered, "Don't fuckin' stop." </p><p> </p><p>He backed up and tugged on my hand, "Come 'ere." </p><p> </p><p>Hours flew by and for that short, blissful window of time, I couldn't give a shit about Rogue, or Arasaka. What mattered to me in that moment was in that bed with me, chasing away bad thoughts and my breath all in one swoop. Johnny touched me and all the things pressing down on my head that day fell away, leaving me content, leaving me free. He heaved a breath, collapsed into the bed beside me. For a while we just laid there, both still fighting to catch our breath, and the longer the silence grew, the more my doubts crept back. The louder the quiet little voices in the back of my head got until I could hear them just as well as the rise and fall of Johnny's chest.</p><p> </p><p>"Still mad?" he asked, and I could hear the shit-eating grin on his face. But despite the simple desire in me to smile with him, to laugh away the concerns gnawing at me, I couldn't. Sitting up, I stared down at my knees hidden beneath the sheets, a weird sort of distant feeling taking over me. As if he wasn't there at all, as if I was all alone again. Like I'd blink and he'd vanish. "V?" he tried, voice uncharacteristically soft. </p><p> </p><p>"I just…" I sighed, and before I could bite my lip, before I could hold myself back like I always did, I spat it out. "I like what we've got goin', Johnny. I like this place." I threw my arms out at the apartment, and then let them drop uselessly back to my lap. "I like Shit-heap. I like our bed. I like <em> us </em>." I glanced sideways at him, to see him staring at me rather intently. I couldn't keep up with it, and looked away. "Signin' it all away to Rogue and her war? I don't know, I just… I don't wanna gamble it all without knowin' it'll pay off, y'know?" </p><p> </p><p>A short, uncomfortable silence followed my little tangent. I started to regret it until he opened his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>"You don't gotta worry about losin' me." he said bluntly, even though I hadn't said anything like it. He straightened up the rings on his right hand, staring hard at them before back up at me. His face was so serious, so firm, for a minute he looked nothing like himself. "I got no intention of dyin' to Arasaka a second time." </p><p> </p><p>It wasn't much, but it took a weight off my chest. Easing on a small smile, I hesitantly reached out - he met me halfway, and pressed his palm flat to mine, fingers slipping between mine and squeezing. For some reason, my throat felt tight. </p><p> </p><p>"And you?" he asked. I looked up at him with a frown, and he nodded at me, "Do I gotta worry about losin' you?" </p><p> </p><p>A soft laugh left me. "Nah." I said, squeezing his hand back. "The bastards didn't stop me once when they were oh-so-powerful. They can't now." </p><p> </p><p>"Good." Johnny said softly. His thumb rubbed a slow line up the length of my own, and it was so tender and soft that for a minute, I could hardly believe he was doing it. He looked up at me, "Good." he repeated, firmer, "'Cuz I like what we've got goin' too." </p><p> </p><p>… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>MARCH 15th 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Watson, Kabuki … 02:23PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>My holo chimed its happy little tune, and I dug it out of my pocket. I could tell it was mine, and not Johnny's, because mine was the default one - his first demand had been we change his to a Samurai song. Under the bright sun out here at this gas station, Shit-heap shone like an ugly turd - implying a turd can be anything but? - and it made it hard to see the screen. So I opted to use my goddamn eyes, and brought up the holo overlay in the top right. I didn't recognise the ID, but I answered regardless. </p><p> </p><p>"Is that the one and only V?" called a familiar voice down my ear, chirpy and as upbeat as ever. </p><p> </p><p>"Dino! Hey, how's it goin'?" at the sound of my voice, Johnny looked over at me from the bed of the truck, and I waved a hand at him dismissively. </p><p> </p><p>"Not bad, not bad. Y'know, biz is runnin', can't complain. How's things with you?" </p><p> </p><p>"Could be better, could be worse." I said vaguely, kicking a little loose gravel under the toe of my boot. "What can I do ya for?" </p><p> </p><p>"Well, a little birdy told me you were in the market for a new ride." he began, and before he'd even managed to get to the end of that sentence, I gritted my teeth and held back a groan. "Is that some fight I hear there, V?" </p><p> </p><p>"Listen, Dino, I'd love a set of new wheels, but right now I don't have the eddies for that sorta thing." </p><p> </p><p>"And that's perfectly fine, because there are special circumstances." </p><p> </p><p>Ugh, god. I didn't wanna be getting myself in debt so soon after getting back in town - the last time I did, I owed Viktor for two months straight. And that was chrome, not a whole goddamn car. Dino's cars were flashy, fast, and expensive. </p><p> </p><p>"I really appreciate the offer, Dino, but I can't." I forced myself to say. I glanced at Shit-heap behind me, and couldn't believe I was spitting the words out of my mouth. One of Dino's could set up my street cred for the foreseeable future - I'd never have to worry about getting another one of those looks of pure disgust outside After. </p><p> </p><p>"V, V, V - stop talkin'. Hear me out, okay, listen? You listenin'?" he insisted, and part of me considered just putting down the holo just to laugh. "How do the words, Porsche 911 Turbo, sound to you?" </p><p> </p><p>A little spark of recognition jolted through me. Side-eyeing Johnny, I put some distance between myself and where he was lounging in the bed of Shit-heap, soaking in the sun. </p><p> </p><p>"It doesn't happen to be silver and green, and have a big fuck-off Samurai print on the back, does it?" I asked warily. I could almost hear Dino grinning. </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh." </p><p> </p><p>Shit. Shit, fuck, <em> shit </em> ! The one goddamn thing Johnny wanted back outta this city was his car. His fucking car, the stupid, tiny, old-school Porsche that was worth so many goddamn eddies because it had belonged to <em> him </em>. And now Dino had it? What was this going to cost me, ritual sacrifice of my firstborn? My legs and my kidney? </p><p> </p><p>"Aight, Dino, I need that car." I breathed heavy, rubbing at my eyes. "How much?" </p><p> </p><p>"See, I'd love to be the one to cash your eddies, V, I really would, but it's not mine to sell." </p><p> </p><p>I groaned. "Fine, who is?" </p><p> </p><p>"I can forward you his deets, if you want. I highly doubt he'll part with it for nothin' short of a small fortune, though. Guy's crazy about Samurai." </p><p> </p><p>"Is the car with him?" </p><p> </p><p>Dino paused, and then let out an evil little snicker. "I like how you're thinkin', V. Okay, how about we work out a little game plan, somethin' of a deal, and I give you the info you <em> really </em>want." </p><p> </p><p>Sneaky motherfucker. If he'd just continued to be stupid, I could've gotten the deets and rolled outta there in the Porsche without spending a single eddie. </p><p> </p><p>"Whaddya want, Dino?" I asked, stopping in pacing to turn back toward where Shit-heap was parked facing a wall at the other end of the open lot. All I could see was Johnny's knee past the walls of the truck bed; evidently he'd made himself very comfy while he was meant to be keeping an eye out for our target. </p><p> </p><p>"Car's at a dealership, right? Gettin' tuned. Dealership just happens to be in possession of some pretty sweet rides other than yours. And I know you happen to be workin' in a duo again." </p><p> </p><p>Goddamn it. It was okay. Johnny could drive - I'd just have tell him to put his foot on the gas and <em> not </em>crash, which would be a miracle for him to pull off. </p><p> </p><p>"Say I was curious, which one d'ya want?" </p><p> </p><p>"They got a Yaiba Kusanagi CT-3X I want." </p><p> </p><p>"Ain't that a bike? And aren't they like.. Cheap?" </p><p> </p><p>"Not this one. This one's a rare beaut, like that Porsche of your Johnny boy's. I happen to have a client that wants it." </p><p> </p><p>I narrowed my eyes, sensing an opportunity. "And who is this client exactly? You wouldn't be cuttin' my pay outta a big gig by just tellin' me where the bike's stashed, wouldya?" </p><p> </p><p>"Course not, V, course not! Aight, there's the deets, as a show of good faith." my holo buzzed, and I brought it up out of my pocket and shaded the screen with my hand. There was an address, sure, over in Watson. Included were pictures and sure enough - a poorly taken photo of the beautiful Porsche Johnny adored so much, alongside another of a custom Kusanagi. </p><p> </p><p>"Looks like Tyger Claws paint job. They the client? Why don't they just take it back themselves? It's in their turf." </p><p> </p><p>Dino hummed. "Somethin' about tensions with Maelstrom - that dealership's their gig. Tyger Claws go in guns blazin'? All out war. And I think Afterlife's little rally could do without?" </p><p> </p><p>And so it came full circle. This wasn't just about Johnny's car or Dino's job anymore - if I left the Tyger Claws to sort out their own goddamn problems, Afterlife and Rogue would suffer for it. It'd be a whole lot harder to get the gangs of the city under her wing of they were hellbent on killin' each other. </p><p> </p><p>"Fine. Fuck, fine, I'll get you the bike." I huffed, setting a hand on my hip. "Who's it belong to, anyway?" </p><p> </p><p>"Not important. Do this for me and you'll have your sweet wheels back and a pocket full 'o eddies." </p><p> </p><p>Sounded sus, but I didn't really have time to think about it right now. I happened to glance over to Shit-heap as a new car rolled into the lot, some big honcho with too much swagger as he got out of his car. </p><p> </p><p>"Sorry, Dino, gotta run. I'll let you know when I'm hittin' the dealership." </p><p> </p><p>"Sure thing, V, good luck!" </p><p> </p><p>The guy was already disappearing behind the back of the gas station. I hurried across the lot, banging on the end of Shit-heap as I went. Johnny jolted upright and - grumbling and cursing the whole while - hopped out to follow me. As we caught up to the guy, doing our good samirtan deed for the day while also getting paid for it - the dude was tryna sell some new experimental breed of drug to some kids, asshat - I thought over Dino's job again. Why was <em> Dino </em>offering a job for the Tyger Claws and not Wakako? I mean, Watson and the Tyger Claws were her deal, so if anyone it should've been her to offer me such a gig. </p><p> </p><p>When the telltale sirens of the NCPD rolled around to take the gonk off our hands, Johnny and I retreated back to Shit-heap before we could be seen. Doin' deals with the cops wasn't the best of gigs, and didn't do great for street cred, but it was still eddies. While Johnny decided he was gonna drive, expecting an argument, I just got into the passenger seat without complaint; I was too busy looking through my contacts on the holo, searching if I still had Wakako's number. Maybe if I was lucky, she'd offer me more for returning the bike to her instead of Dino. He wouldn't appreciate it, of course, but biz was biz. </p><p> </p><p>Thankfully I'd had the brains to copy her contact to my new holo. I rang, waiting to hear her usual stuck-up sense of superiority. But then it kept ringing, and ringing, and ringing. Eventually, the automated voice service answered for me, and I didn't bother to leave a message. </p><p> </p><p>"Weird." I said, mulling it over as Johnny gave me a funny look. </p><p> </p><p>"What's weird?" </p><p> </p><p>"I can't get ahold of Wakako. She of all people doesn't make a habit of changin' her contact." </p><p> </p><p>I started leaving messages to other fixers, asking for her new contact ID. Was weird, definitely, but wasn't impossible she'd changed it. </p><p> </p><p>"Wasn't that the old hag who was havin' troubles with the Tyger Claws leader?" Johnny said, mostly idly to himself. I thought back, and realised he was right. I'd helped Wakako spy on the guy, plant bugs on his secret meetings. A horrid sort of dread started to twist up in my gut, and my suspicions were only confirmed when I got a message back. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>REGINA JONES:</strong>
</p><p>
  <em> Don't know how to tell you this, V, but Wakaka was offed a few months ago by Taki Kazo. Sorry.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Fuck." I breathed, leaning back into my seat for support. Motherfucker… The Tyger Claws leaded actually grew a pair of balls and decided once and for all he'd rule the streets of Japantown without her influence. It was hard to believe the old bitch was actually dead. She'd been kicking and laying what was what in Watson for longer than I'd been alive. Still, if her contact was leaving me on message and Regina said so, it was pretty impossible to deny. </p><p> </p><p>"Well?" Johnny spoke up, "Is she dead?" </p><p> </p><p>"So compassionate, I love that about you." I said dryly, and he shot me a sarcastic smile. "Yeah. Tyger Claws got sick of her, I guess." </p><p> </p><p>"Damn. Ballsy." </p><p> </p><p>"Yep. Maybe that's why Claws don't want a war with Maelstrom - probably infightin' goin' on between the ones that supported Wakako and those have got Kazo's back." </p><p> </p><p>"How'd you know that?" </p><p> </p><p>"Long story. You want the shitty remake which lacks about ninety percent of what made the original good and could be edited down to about two minutes of actually good content?" </p><p> </p><p>"That's very specific, V."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, talkin' about your solo career." </p><p> </p><p>The breath he inhaled was sharp and sudden, and how aback he was taken made me laugh. "Fuck, that was harsh. Bitch." </p><p> </p><p>"Dick." </p><p> </p><p>"Short version, then." </p><p> </p><p>I gave him the lay down of Dino's job, leaving out the most important part til last. I knew if I spoiled the info about his car, he'd stop listening immediately. So he nodded, and changed our course for Vik's - if I was gonna be driving a bike outta a Maelstrom dealers where they would all no doubt be <em> very angry </em> about it, I'd need something to protect my fleshy bits. By the time we arrived, he still seemed pretty invested in the job, so… Maybe I could just leave out the Porsche part altogether, just to see his eyes light up like the fourth of July when we turned up at the gig. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, Misty." I greeted as we stepped into her little shop, dodging under woven dream catchers, beads, lanterns and all sorts hanging from the ceiling. </p><p> </p><p>"V! Oh, it's good to see you." she wore that usual kind half-smile, coming up to draw me into a hug. "Your energy is weird, today. Lots of ups and downs." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, it's been a day of lots of revelations." I murmured, scratching my head after we drew apart. She smiled even more warmly at me, before turning her attention to Johnny. </p><p> </p><p>"It's good to see you too, Johnny. How is your spirit holding up?" </p><p> </p><p>The dry expression on his face never got old, no matter how many times she'd ask. </p><p> </p><p>"It's still in my head and <em> only </em>my head, so I think I'm still good." he said blankly. </p><p> </p><p>"Good, I'm glad. Your chakra's always quite hard to read, you either feel so much or nothing at all." that seemed like a pretty fucking perfect way to describe him, actually. Too passionate about some things and not nearly enough for others. "You know you can always come talk to me if you're not feelin' great. I can imagine everything you've been through has taken such a heavy toll on your mind." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, sure. Heavy toll." </p><p> </p><p>"Ignore him." I waved a hand dismissively in his direction, before offering her an apologetic smile. "Is Vik busy?" </p><p> </p><p>"He's seein' someone right now, but it shouldn't take too long. You're welcome to wait in here." </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny had made the mistake once of making himself at home in the chair in the corner, only to have Misty try to convince him she should do a little therapy session with him. I'd never seen him jump up so fast, it was impressive really. So he lingered by the door, being a good boy and not messing with the scents of Misty's insence by smoking outside. Misty and I had a chat, about this and that - it wasn't the first time I'd been back since returning to NC, so we didn't have masses to catch up on. I avoided bringing up anything too heavy, because I didn't want her - bless her - over analysing and offering me advice. Wasn't really in the mood for it. </p><p> </p><p>When a guy out back left Vik's clinic, she nodded at me. </p><p> </p><p>"That was his last client. I think he's free now." </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Misty. See ya soon." </p><p> </p><p>"No problem. See ya, V. You too, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>He, at the very least, gave her a curt nod. "Yeah." he said gruffly as he passed by to head out back. He'd never really liked Misty, but at least he was civil nowadays. </p><p> </p><p>Heading down into the dark hum of Viktor's clinic, I slid aside the gate blocking our path in. He looked up over the screen he was watching and I swear a brief look of dread passed over him when he saw us. It was gone as quickly as it came. </p><p> </p><p>"V." he said politely, and then he turned to my partner with a less amiable expression. "Silverhand." </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, Vik." I said, stepping on in. Viktor's clinic was always dark and gloomy save for the big bright lights over his operating chair. It was how he liked it, how most ripperdocs liked it, and I had to admit I never really understood it. Maybe it was less threatening for most clients than shiny lights everywhere. </p><p> </p><p>"What can I do for ya?" he asked, rolling his chair away from his desk to look up at me. </p><p> </p><p>"I got a job that'll involve lots of people shootin' at me-" </p><p> </p><p>"So no different than usual." </p><p> </p><p>"-And I'd like to have a shield of sorts." I finished, as if he hadn't interrupted me. </p><p> </p><p>"Sure. Hardware or software?" </p><p> </p><p>Hardware would probably a long and painful process, and one I'm sure would not do wonders for my appearance. Software, on the other hand, sounded easy. </p><p> </p><p>"Software." </p><p> </p><p>"Good, quick and painless. Sit down in the chair and I'll sort it for ya."</p><p> </p><p>I'd picked right then. Johnny did his usual lingering and nosing, still unused to being able to actually interact with this place he'd been so many times in my head. When I was settled in the chair, Viktor plugged cables into me and uploaded new functions into my software, including a very handy and unobtrusive shield package. It'd react on reflex, but could only take so much damage before it started to take its toll on my body - by that point the shield would be long since broken anyhow. But it would be sufficient enough to protect me long enough to drive that goddamn bike out of the Maelstrom auto shop. </p><p> </p><p>"All done. You might feel a bit dizzy for a while because the rest of your system syncing up, but it'll pass." he said as I slid off the chair and onto my feet. Sure enough I had to hold my ground for a few seconds while the clinic spun around me. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Vik. How much do I owe ya?" </p><p> </p><p>"Depends," he poked his thumb at Johnny behind him, "Is he gettin' anythin'?" </p><p> </p><p>"Probably not today, but since you mentioned it, could you have a look at his arm? It's been… Twitchy, lately." </p><p> </p><p>"Sure. Just tell him to have a seat, I think he might stand on my glasses if I tried." </p><p> </p><p>Viktor Vector wasn't the sort of guy to take shit from anyone, but I got why he was distant with Johnny, while simultaneously refusing to let that distance shorten. Back in his day, Johnny was a big deal, and big trouble - he'd also been responsible for that long, uncomfortable health scare for me. Viktor had always been there for me, like an uncle or an old family friend. He didn't take kindly to those who caused me harm, intentional or not. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, Vik's gonna have a look at your arm. Come sit." </p><p> </p><p>The <em> last </em>thing Johnny wanted there and then was to sit in Viktor's chair. For a long hard minute he just looked at me, with a sort-of, "Do I have to?" kinda look on his face. I wasn't budging this time though. So eventually he kicked his feet off the ground and sauntered over, shooting me a hard glare as he sank down onto the chair. </p><p> </p><p>"Hand here, please." Viktor instructed, patting the armrest. Reluctantly, Johnny laid his hand down - he hated anyone messing with his arm, even qualified and great ripperdocs like Vik. "Relax, Silverhand. Let's see palm up." </p><p> </p><p>"Just don't break anythin', doc." Johnny requested in a gruff tone, but his words were cheeky. Vik connected some cables to various ports up Johnny's arm - one in his wrist, one in his elbow, one up under the metal plate against his collarbone Viktor had to pry off. There was circuitry underneath and cables so worn and old they looked fit to snap. </p><p> </p><p>"Such little faith." he sighed, and then turned to his monitor, "Do you want me to cut off circulation while I work? You won't feel a thing." </p><p> </p><p>"Do you have to?" </p><p> </p><p>"No. Legally I don't even have to offer, but you'll feel everything. Trust me it's not great feeling screwdrivers in your wrist." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny sighed, and thumped his head back down against the chair. "Fine. Turn it off." he said, quite unhappily. I can imagine losing all feeling in his metal arm would just be like losing that arm all over again, and I couldn't begin to think what that felt like. I didn't have any chrome that replaced limbs or organs, I wasn't necessarily dependent on mine. But Johnny had relied on that arm for the high majority of his life, so being without even for a second must've felt unbelievably jarring. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright." Viktor said after a second, "You can still move it, you just can't feel it. So no sudden thoughts, okay? Your brain's still wired up to the motors." </p><p> </p><p>Until then I'd just been standing nearby, watching. Johnny caught my gaze and with his free hand - the fleshy one - he mimicked the gesture of a cigarette. With a sigh, I dragged his case out of my back pocket, checking with Vik that it was alright to smoke in here before I handed it to him and lit it. </p><p> </p><p>"Right. I see what's going on." Vik murmured absently, staring at his screen. I couldn't make any of it out, it was all technical garbo that went way over my head. "The neural interface inside your arm, the thing that lets you move it, feel things with it, it's slowly frying itself." </p><p> </p><p>"Why?" Johnny asked, but didn't seem too concerned. </p><p> </p><p>"Why? Because your body was dead for the last fifty years and suddenly you're back, your body can't possibly keep up with that demand. You really ought to be takin' things slower." Viktor turned his attention from the screen to the physical arm beside him, and selected a <em> miniscule </em>screwdriver to start undoing teeny tiny screws on a panel on the inside of Johnny's wrist. "You really shouldn't have expected it to go any differently."</p><p> </p><p>"Can you fix it, Vik?" I asked, taking a step closer. We'd always known there should've been physical complications to the miraculous revival of Johnny - a feat modern science had never actually managed to accomplish before. Even still, it was a little scary to actually be confronted with them. </p><p> </p><p>"I don't know." he admitted, rubbing at his forehead. "I can offer you two things - I try to delay the shit fest incoming, but one, you'll have to deal with that shit fest when your arm just gives up on itself, and two, it's only temporary." </p><p> </p><p>"And the other thing?" </p><p> </p><p>"I fit him a new arm." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck that." Johnny said immediately, "I'm not replacing this." </p><p> </p><p>"He's attached to that one." I explained helpfully. The two of them turned to look at me with blank expressions.</p><p> </p><p>"Ya don't say." Viktor said dryly, gesturing to Johnny's shoulder where, funnily enough, Johnny's skin met metal and cables. He then sighed, "Fine, there's one last option. You can keep the original arm, and I can refit its innards. Complete internal remodel, update it to modern tech, but the chassis will be identical. It'll be expensive and it'll take a while. Obviously, you'll be an arm down until it's done."</p><p> </p><p>I looked at Johnny. No matter how expensive Viktor claimed it would be, it wouldn't be impossible to finance. If he really wanted to keep that arm, he'd have to take that hit, because I wasn't going to let him put it off until his body literally couldn't take it anymore. Who knows what sort of lasting damage it could do to his nervous system if he kept using fucked up tech? </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, okay." finally he agreed, "But not today, I need this arm." </p><p> </p><p>He wasn't wrong - if we were gonna pull off that job, we needed that goddamn arm. Viktor sighed, and nodded. </p><p> </p><p>"Sure. I can tighten up the movements a little bit, but there's not much else I can do for you." </p><p> </p><p>I took a curious nose in at the innards beneath the panel Vik lifted up off Johnny's arm. He let out a short, frustrated huff at the tangled mess of cables he found inside, and began trying to sort through it to find what he was looking for. A little twitch shot through Johnny's fingers, and his face twisted up for a second, before he eased out, relaxed again. Even if he wasn't meant to feel pain from Vik digging around in there, he must've felt something. Who knows? Tech that old, maybe there were multiple pain receptors in different places rather than one simultaneous experience. Being able to feel pain in a metal arm felt a bit counterproductive, but I suppose it was the trade off for being able to feel <em> anything </em>at all. And Johnny liked touching things far too much to not miss that. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright," said Vik as he twisted something on the inside of Johnny's wrist. "Flex those fingers on zero. Three, two, one, zero." </p><p> </p><p>Without complaint or even an ounce of restraint, Johnny did as told - impressive, really, that Vik was able to get him to play along. But even I, who wasn't at all versed in this sorta stuff, noticed the issues. How, instead of his fingers curling instantly on command, they sort of twitched in a few short little jerks. And how despite managing to get it done, there was a hint of a delay. </p><p> </p><p>"Yikes, that's rough." Viktor judged, and tweaked it again. The process was a bit rinse and repeat there, but the delay got shorter with every iteration. "Alright," he said eventually, "Think that's as close as instant as we're gonna get with this old tech. You could do with a full neural rewire, but I'm gonna guess you don't have the time for that today either?" </p><p> </p><p>I glanced at the time on my holo. "How long would that take?" </p><p> </p><p>"An hour, maybe more?" </p><p> </p><p>It was already getting on in the afternoon. If we stood any chance at doing this job today, this would have to do for now. </p><p> </p><p>"Nah, gonna have to leave it for now." I decided, and Vik gave me an affirmative nod before beginning the process of tucking wires back into that little hollow box on the inside of Johnny's wrist. When the panel was screwed back in place and the cables were pulled free, Johnny eagerly got up back to his feet, flexing his shoulder as he did. For a minute, he just watched the movement of his fingers with little stretches, and when he seemed satisfied, he gave Vik a nod.</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, doc." he said, surprising us both with his manners. Didn't know he had any. </p><p> </p><p>I set my hands on my hips. "How much do I owe you then, Vik?" </p><p> </p><p>He kicked away from the chair, wheeling over to the other side of the clinic in one smooth roll. "I'll put it on your tab." he said from his desk, "We'll see how much the total comes up to when I've done that refit of Silverhand's… Hand." </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Vik, you're the best." </p><p> </p><p>"I know." </p><p> </p><p>"Come on, let's get goin'." I said, but Johnny was fascinated by his goddamn hand again. I had to snap my fingers in front of his face to wake him up - for a second I worried Vik had forgotten to turn something back on when he unplugged Johnny from his machines. But no, sure enough, he slapped my hand outta his face, so it proved with ease that there was a light on inside his head. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn't happy with me for forcing him to get his hand checked, and even more so for being forced to see the reality of his tech situation. He couldn't keep burying his head in the sand, though. And he definitely wouldn't be mad by the time the day was over - getting his hands on his Porsche again would do wonders for his mood. Maybe he'll even be happy for a few days, weeks. </p><p> </p><p>Now that'd be a miracle. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed &lt;3 If you did, please consider leaving a comment with your thoughts! </p><p>Find me on tumblr as <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Most Romantic of Dates</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, everyone! Sorry chapters have started to slow down, but it was only a matter of time until I stopped writing like a woman possessed lmao. But here we are, I hope you enjoy the new chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>AUGUST 19th, 2077 / V</b>
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  <b>NIGHT CITY / ??? … 3:26AM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>"Where the fuck did you get a beaut like this?" asked the dealer, rounding the back of the Porsche and checking it out with eyes so wide, he might've been looking at a girl with seventeen tits. "I ain't seen one of these in years. Not only that, but this belonged to Johnny fuckin' Silverhand. Do you know how rare of a car you've got right here?" </p><p> </p><p>"I thought you said no questions asked." I said dryly. I knew <em> exactly </em> how rare of a car I had, and how fucking devestated I was to be forced to sell it. A car like this stuck out like a sore thumb - the huge Samurai branding on the back basically yelled: <em> Hey, I'm V, come stab me! </em>I loved this dumb little car, but nowhere near as much as Johnny did. Oh, he was going to be so angry with me. Maybe he wouldn't talk to me for a week straight. </p><p> </p><p>"Sure, sure." said the dealer, "Alright, I can offer fifty." </p><p> </p><p>I scoffed. "Fifty. You're fuckin' kiddin', right?" I poked my hand at the Porsche branding on its bumper. "They stopped producing these cars fifty years ago! It's an antique <em> and </em> it's one of a kind. You can do better than that." </p><p> </p><p>"Not without askin' more questions." </p><p> </p><p>Motherfucker. </p><p> </p><p>"Higher or I'll take it somewhere else." I threatened. I was bluffing - I didn't have that kinda time, Arasaka was already on my ass. </p><p> </p><p>"Sixty." </p><p> </p><p>"Do I need to make my case again? Higher." </p><p> </p><p>"Listen, lady-" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Higher </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"Shit. Seventy-five." </p><p> </p><p>This car was worth a whole lot more. God, it was worth so much more. I think Johnny's sentimental attachment was worth more than this sleazy dealer was offering - he loved this car more than he'd ever loved anyone, himself included. But we had no choice, and he wasn't exactly around to help me make that decision. He was still out cold back at Vik's. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck. Fine, seventy-five." I reluctantly shook the guy's hand, and I wanted to punch the shit-eating grin off his face. He'd just stuck the bargain of a lifetime and I'd let him. But goddamn, if I wasn't already pushing it for time. "Well I need another ride. Cheap, blends in." </p><p> </p><p>"How cheap we talkin'?" </p><p> </p><p>I went into that dealership with a Porsche 911 and left with Shit-heap. Glorious, sexy Shit-heap. Even then her engine stuttered and her paint job was chipped, but she'd do the job. And then after picking Johnny up, I'd said goodbye to Night City for the last time in a while, riding off into the Badlands and praying to whatever divine power that might've existed that we'd make it out before Arasaka could put out roadblocks. </p><p> </p><p>Suffice to say, when Johnny woke up and asked me why we were in a shitty truck - and not his beauty of a car - Shit-heap got her first fist-shaped dent. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>MARCH 15th 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Watson, Northside … 05:58PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>"Easy, big guy. Patience goes a long way." I reminded, pressing a hand to Johnny's chest. It wouldn't do much physically to stop him if he really wanted to charge in guns blazing to that shop behind us, but he stayed put anyway. Two of the four shutter gates were rolled up but no sign of the Porsche from here. They'd have to be maniacs to put it on display anyhow. There was biz going on as usual, Maelstrom - only telling by their obnoxious chrome - mechanics coming in and out. </p><p> </p><p>"They got my fuckin' car, V." he spat, and I gave him a few pats.</p><p> </p><p>Well, that was a mistake, then. To sweeten the deal, to convince him this job was worthwhile, I might've dropped in a hint - clever boy put two and two together and for a short while, I was rewarded with that glorious, stupidly big grin on his face I'd wanted. Then, it clicked back into the reality of the situation, and since he'd been antsy to kill any gonk who'd put his fingers on his baby. </p><p> </p><p>"I know, I know." I reassured, "But we'll get her back, just gotta wait a lil longer." </p><p> </p><p>He growled and, instead of pacing like he had for the last ten minutes, he parked his ass down on the short wall beside us. We'd been scoping the place for thirty minutes or so, watching deals happen that definitely weren't legal, nor were they as subtle as these gonks thought they were. If the NCPD gave a single flying shit about the crime rate in Northside, all they'd have to do was open their goddamn eyes for five minutes in this place. Now that would've been an undertaking and a half for them to disassemble this place. Maybe that was why they didn't give a shit. </p><p> </p><p>"Why are we waitin'?" Johnny asked as he lit a cigarette. "We can take 'em."</p><p> </p><p>"And risk a stray bullet piercin' your girl?" I snorted, "No. We get in quick and quiet, jump the rides, get out. You shake 'em off your tail and take your car wherever you want to have some private time or whatever, and when I'm done dealin' with Dino, you'll pick me up. Then <em> we'll </em>have some private time or whatever." I finished that with a wink. </p><p> </p><p>"Back seat's too small." he said decisively, as if speaking from experience. "Only problem with that car. Can't fuck in it." </p><p> </p><p>"Well that's a shame. I'm sure the hood'll do just fine." </p><p> </p><p>The little grin he shot me was so absolutely devious that I could've melted on the spot. </p><p> </p><p>"I like how you think, V." </p><p> </p><p>"I <em> am </em>the one with the brain cells here, baby." </p><p> </p><p>"And it's incredibly sexy." </p><p> </p><p>"Why thank you." </p><p> </p><p>That sort of banter always made me feel more comfortable than we ought to be given the circumstance. I had always loved a bit of back and forth, but my mind wasn't immune to getting carried away whenever Johnny got a little bit too flirty. I was sure he wasn't even trying to stop those thoughts. It never used to get to me, but that was <em> before </em>he'd had the body to back it up. </p><p> </p><p>We waited out the busy hours of the autoshop. There was nothing else for it, because there was <em> no </em>way we were getting in there unseen. I'd already scanned the joint, making note of the layout - namely the office at the back, which no doubt held the keys to the vehicles inside. I could've easily gotten a device to hack into the bike we were after for Dino, but Johnny's car? That shit was old. Way too old to not have an actual, physical key, made of metal and plastic. It had felt like a novelty at first, but eventually got so tiresome I often just left the car doors unlocked if I wasn't staying at a place for long. Johnny'd throttle me and enjoy it if he knew. </p><p> </p><p>Who was I kidding? We both enjoyed it when he choked me. </p><p> </p><p>"I need a guitar." he said abruptly, after a little window of silence. I took the cigarette between my lips out and nodded. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay." I agreed, and he looked a little taken aback, as if he hadn't expected it to be that easy. "You wanna start playin' again, good for you. Everybody needs a hobby." </p><p> </p><p>Whatever he'd planned to say was now on the back burner. </p><p> </p><p>"So if that's mine," he said slowly, and poked a finger at me, "What's yours?" </p><p> </p><p>"Huh?" </p><p> </p><p>"Your hobby." </p><p> </p><p>My first thought was to take the piss out of him, as ever. "Babysitting a cocky, angry rockerboy." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh. You enjoy that a lot, then?" </p><p> </p><p>"It has its advantages." </p><p> </p><p>"Why don't you learn how to play?" </p><p> </p><p>I had considered it before. Was never planning on admitting it to him, though - I'd learn while he wasn't there to laugh at me. Maybe pay for a class, an actual teacher, which I'm sure he definitely did <em> not </em>when he picked up a guitar to share his anger with the world. Then when I officially wasn't shit, I'd show him. My goal wouldn't be to impress him, definitely not. But if I was gonna pick up something everyone could admit he was fucking good at, I wasn't about to embarrass myself. </p><p> </p><p>"I might, when I have the time." was all I decided on saying. "Too bad babysitting takes up all my time." </p><p> </p><p>He expertly ignored my jab, and it was convenient how he chose to ignore what was said in a conversation when it suited him. </p><p> </p><p>"Why don't I teach you?" he suggested, and his face twisted into an actual hard-set look of insult at my bark of laughter. "What's so funny?" </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, baby, sweetheart," I wheezed, "You are many things. Patient is <em> not </em>one of them. You can't teach anyone anything." </p><p> </p><p>He shrugged, but the limp lift of his shoulders from his folded arms looked vaguely like he was sulking. "I've never tried." he said, "We don't know if I'd be a good teacher or not." </p><p> </p><p>"Exactly. I'd rather not risk it in case you decide to smash the fancy guitar I'm gonna buy you over my head." </p><p> </p><p>He poked a finger at me. "I choose." </p><p> </p><p>"Sure. I don't know what I'd be payin' for anyway." </p><p> </p><p>In reality, I'd dodged a bullet. There I was, lecturing him about hobbies and it being unhealthy to not have one and shit but… <em> I </em> didn't have one. In between jobs, I ate, slept, shit, showered, and got up in time to eat again before the next job. When had it become an obsession like that? Had I always been so focused on getting my next pay cheque that I'd just given up on everything else? </p><p> </p><p>Maybe I'd give Johnny that chance to teach me. It'd be nice to unwind and do something normal - and if it so happened that I was right, and he couldn't teach for shit, so be it. No loss.</p><p> </p><p>It was another ten minutes of waiting, me watching while Johnny played with his holo. He was learning how to use it all on his own now, thank fuck. I wasn't there to teach gramps everything and <em> someone </em>had to keep an eye out for the job. It was just past seven pm when most of the mechanics rolled outta the shop, shutters came down, fog lights outside got switched on. It was when the sun went down that they just gave up pretending to be a nice, legitimate family business - guns came out, and gonks in bulletproof vests began to patrol. </p><p> </p><p>Evidently, this shop was more than just a front. Who knew what sorta info, cash, other goodies they had in there for that protection? </p><p> </p><p>"Alright, Johnny, listen." after a second, he did as I asked, pocketing his holo and coming to crouch beside me. "We go in <em> quietly </em>. No guns, okay? We can't fuck this up and risk a fire fight."</p><p> </p><p>"Sure, sure. I can take guys down with my bare hands." he said with a little grin, poking at his fleshy bicep. I knew for a fact his metal-and-wire one was far stronger, but it was unfair to compare chrome with genuine muscle, and he had a fair bit of it all on his own. I was comfortably familiar with it. </p><p> </p><p>"Good. If we gotta take guys out, we hide the bodies. The <em> only </em>time they're gonna find out we're there is when we've got the keys in the ignition and we're high-tailin' it out." </p><p> </p><p>"Got it. Y'know, you don't have to spell everythin' out for me. I'm not stupid." </p><p> </p><p>"Coulda fooled me." </p><p> </p><p>"Bitch." </p><p> </p><p>"Dick." </p><p> </p><p>"You love big Johnny, you always bring him up." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, fuck off. Let's go." </p><p> </p><p>I led the way, not trusting him without chrome in his eyes to know which way'd be safe. There were a few goons who stayed rigid in their spots, and others who took a few paces around a loop. Typical guard rotations. It was easy enough to clamber over the fence at a point where brick wall broke the monotonous barbed wire, and sneak across the parking lot to the side of the building. This place was as scruffy as most gang-run establishments were in Night City, trash gathering along the walls where the occupants have just given up trying to stuff it in the already-packed dumpsters. Plus, Maelstrom weren't really posers like the Tyger Claws or Valentinos. They didn't try to keep up a good image - in fact I think it was encouraged to look as rough and tumble as possible. I think it was meant to look intimidating and sure, up close, it was freaky as hell. But from a distance, when the sun reflected off their squeaky clean chrome eyeballs, they looked like dopey robots. </p><p> </p><p>I crept around back, peering round the corner. There was an open door - human-sized, not for cars - which a goon with an assault rifle in hand was presiding over. I swapped spots with Johnny and let him take this one; sticking his fingers in his mouth, he let out a low whistle. Not unlike the kinda stupid noise he made often when I took off my top. Shaking that thought outta my head, I watched as Johnny grappled the guy with expert ease, and snapped his neck under the tight squeeze of his arm. Bit harsh, wasn't exactly expecting him to outright kill him. But safer than knocking him out cold and waiting for him to wake up; Johnny dumped his body amongst the trash and hid him under some bags. </p><p> </p><p>Still, one less to cause future problems for someone else. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny took over, leading the way through the open door to the shop. Light from inside flooded out, in a cold, medical glow that reflected off Johnny's arm much like I'd imagine it'd look on the chrome of the Maelstrom patrolling this place. When we were in, my eyes adjusted quickly to the brightness, doing a quick scan across what I could see from here; a handful of cars under sheets, one or two armoured vehicles that had their hoods up or their doors open to be worked on. The whole place stank of rubber, oil and the distant smell of welded metal. Probably just how your average Maelstrom ganger smelled too. </p><p> </p><p>"Office." I whispered, nodding to the other end of the long hall. Sure enough, there was a room cut off from the rest of the space and its windows were covered by shut blinds. </p><p> </p><p>I took the lead, as we inched across bit by bit to the other side. We didn't bother even checking under the sheets at each car - all too big, or the wrong shape to be Johnny's Porsche. But then sure enough, a little glint in his eye had me peering over the hood of the car we were hidden behind; a small thing, smooth bumps for headlights, a little cab and a spoiler jutting up out from under the sheet. </p><p> </p><p>"Easy, Johnny," I reminded, squeezing his wrist, "Keys first."</p><p> </p><p>"Right." he nodded, letting out a soft huff of a sigh. </p><p> </p><p>We continued on to the office. I carefully peeked in through a tiny gap in the blinds, and of course it would be too fucking easy for it to be empty. This guy didn't look Maelstrom - too human-looking, in a crisp suit like a corpo, a cigar between his lips that was probably more expensive than the iron the gonks in here were packing. He looked relaxed, leaned back in his chair, feet up on the desk. He was preoccupied with the tablet in his hands, but somehow I knew that wouldn't keep his attention if two mercs broke in. </p><p> </p><p>I relayed the sitch to my partner. His face crumpled up into a look of disgust, and before I could so much as begin to think of a new plan, he'd cocked the Malorian and opened the door so politely he might've well have been offering tea. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, motherfucker." Johnny greeted casually, and I groaned. Still - I was a trump card right now. The guy in the office didn't know there was <em> two </em>of us, because I had a brain and was still hiding. "Where'd you keep your keys?" </p><p> </p><p>"Are you fuckin' stupid?" laughed the manager - at the very least I assumed he was the one with the brains to run this joint. "You know this place is a Maelstrom gig, right? You steal somethin' here, you're dead, choom." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, the Maelstrom gonks I left dead out there? Yeah, sure. I'm so scared, I think I might piss myself." I could almost <em> hear </em>Johnny's shit-eating smirk. "Keys. Porsche 911 Turbo. Hand 'em over." </p><p> </p><p>"You're stupid if you think I'm givin' them to you." </p><p> </p><p>"Fine. I'll just shoot you between the eyes and I'll find 'em without your help." </p><p> </p><p>Evidently the silence meant the manager thought Johnny was bluffing. His shoes were made of leather, with tough, solid heels that made clicks with every forceful step - he'd tried to convince me his "southern blood" <em> needed </em> spurs but I'd outright refused to listen to him jingle. Turns out, I didn't need them to hear him walking powerfully, threateningly. There was some scurrying, and I bit my lip to stop the stupid little grin that spread across my face at the immediate shift in mood in that little office. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny could be hot when he was angry. </p><p> </p><p>"Shit, okay! Jesus, bud, calm down. Let's work somethin' out." </p><p> </p><p>"No thanks. Fuckin' keys, now." </p><p> </p><p>"They'll kill me if I give you anythin'." </p><p> </p><p>There was a sudden crash, and then a gruff, "Uh huh." from Johnny. I could imagine the smug upturned lip at how much the guy was squirming in his chair. I just hoped he wasn't making too much noise to attract attention. </p><p> </p><p>"Shit. Shit, shit, shit, here! They're here somewhere. Old piece of shit like that needs an actual key to unlock the door."</p><p> </p><p>Yeouch. <em> Old piece of shit </em>, was it? Thankfully Johnny seemed in a semi-patient mood, and I didn't hear the loud clang of the Malorian firing right there and then. There was a little jingle which I could only imagine was the keys - swiftly followed by a crunch of bones under metal and a grunt. </p><p> </p><p>"Did you kill him?" I breathed as I followed him on in. The office was just as I expected - old shelves packed full of more junk, a desk in the middle at which the manager was slumped over in his chair. After a second though, he looked to be breathing. Confirming, I looked at Johnny. </p><p> </p><p>"I just punched him, fuck." he whisper-yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'd rather kill him. If he's dead, he can't talk. But…" </p><p> </p><p>"Do you forget we don't share a body anymore?" </p><p> </p><p>His decisions were his decisions. Sure I might not agree with some of them, and maybe now wasn't the time to have this conversation. </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh, and you would've said nothing if I shot him in the head." </p><p> </p><p>"I didn't say <em> that. </em>You would've blown our cover if you did, so good job." </p><p> </p><p>"Shut the fuck up, V." </p><p> </p><p>"Come on," I said, lightly punching his arm, "Let's go get your baby." </p><p> </p><p>We crept back out into the main floor. Thank fucking God the nearest door was clear - even if the shutters were down. This would require a little bit of finessing, but it wasn't impossible. I located the Tyger Claws bike Dino was after, and as quietly as I could manage, wheeled it over mead the door. Meanwhile, Johnny was ripping the sheet of his Porsche, and the way he was looking at it, running his fingers gently over its hood - he'd never touched <em> me </em>so fucking tenderly, goddamn. Carefully he slid the key in the door, unlocked it, and as if to enjoy that first time he sat down in its seat, he took it slow. And then when he gently closed the door behind him, he looked completely at ease behind that steering wheel. </p><p> </p><p>I got him on the holo, and clambered up onto the bike. I'd already used the magic little key I'd picked out under Dino's recommendation, and the engine would come alive the second I asked it to. </p><p> </p><p>"Here's the deal," I said quietly, and he gave me an expectant nod, "I open the gate, and when they come investigating, you get out first. Sorry to say it but your baby's gonna be drawing the fire away from me for a bit." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny sighed softly through the holo, and I spied him running his hands over the steering wheel. "<em> That's okay </em> ." he said, melancholic, " <em> She'll survive a few bullet holes. You might not </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"Exactly, so lovely of you to think of me, sweetie." I cooed, before wheeling the bike back so that I could easily press the controls of the gate without getting off. This could be pulled off <em> easily </em>, if it went right. If I'd counted the guards right, if we wouldn't get swarmed, if I drove cleanly and didn't get distracted. We'd be out in a zip. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Chillax, V, I can feel your heartbeat from here </em> ." snorted Johnny, " <em> It'll be fine. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Easy for you to say, you're in a fuckin' car." I heaved a sigh. He was right - my heart was thumping against my ribcage. Vik had assured me the shield would take a decent beating before it broke down, but would that beating last a hail of bullets? "Alright, when I say, start up the engine and put your foot down." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Yes, ma'am </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"Stop takin' the piss outta me." </p><p> </p><p>"<b> <em>Me</em> </b> <em> ? Takin' the piss outta </em> <b> <em>you</em> </b> <em> ? Never! </em>" </p><p> </p><p>"Now." </p><p> </p><p>I slapped the button for the gate, and the loud obnoxious rattling and grinding it made to lift was enough to disguise the Porsche's engine flaring to life. Still, it attracted the attention of the gonks patrolling outside. I held my breath and waited - counted the footsteps and when the gate stopped rolling up, the purr of the Porsche was loud and clear. </p><p> </p><p>A ganger stepped into the shop. "What the fuck's goin' on? Turn that engine off, you fuckin-" </p><p> </p><p>He didn't even get to finish his sentence, poor bastard. He grunted as he hit the hood of the Porsche, and went tumbling over the back of it. As if to add insult to injury, I started the bike, and accidentally drove over his fingers. </p><p> </p><p>The lot outside erupted into yelling and gunfire. The second I was clear of the garage, I shifted gears and bolted after the Porsche already disappearing out onto the road. Maelstrom gangers had already been firing at him, and understandably, I was their next target. I swerved and prayed to the god that was Viktor Vector that his pretty tech worked. Sure enough, I was a sitting duck - bullets that would've killed me normally crashed into the little energy field a few inches off my body. Every time one hit, it felt like I was getting a jab, a stab of a needle, and after a few in quick succession, I decided I fucking <em> hated </em>it. Still, better than being filled with holes before I'd even made it onto the highway. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Heads up, V, they're on your ass. </em>" said Johnny's voice in my ear. I managed a curse before I threw a look over my shoulder - true enough, a black truck with a poorly-sprayed Maelstrom logo was on our tail. Thank fuck we'd waited out rush hour, otherwise this would've been a lot more difficult than it should've been. </p><p> </p><p>"I can shake 'em off near Kabuki!" I barked into the wind in my face. Despite it, I was having a pretty good time. I mean, most people would prefer a nice dinner, maybe a movie. I was taking Johnny on grand theft auto dates, and somehow I knew we were both having more fun than we could've had laughing inappropriately inside a corpo restaurant. The adrenaline was pumping, and I felt like laughing into the empty streets. I'd missed this, in a fucked up way. The rush, the craze of a risky job. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Don't get yourself killed </em>." was all he said, before taking a sharp left into what should've been a lane of oncoming traffic, if it wasn't so late. Sure there were a few stray cars, but he knew how to drive. It had been excellent timing on his behalf, because suddenly there was a cement barrier between the two halves of the highway. Meanwhile, I took the next turnoff, speeding down the ramp and bumping a little against the flat roads after. Just as planned, Maelstrom had no choice but to follow me. The screech of rubber on tarmac was all the signal I needed, but they thought they'd helpfully remind me by burying some bullets on the road in front of me. </p><p> </p><p>The streets of Watson were like a maze - turns this way and that, streets upon streets with alleys and side roads, bridges and tunnels. Kabuki was special though; its street life was a creature all its own, flooded with neon lights and oriental lanterns, busy, crazy markets and over-populated residential zones where you could easily get turned around and mugged like it was nothing. I needed to be careful. Even if I'd robbed a Tyger Claws bike, I couldn't have Maelstrom thinking I was one, and I definitely couldn't lead them anywhere near known Tyger Claws bases. They'd take that as provocation, and fighting between the two gangs was something Rogue didn't need right now. If I was feeling petty, I would've driven straight through their turf and let bullets fly to get my own ass outta trouble. Maybe the Claws'd owe me a favour then. But I was feeling particularly helpful. Having both the Claws and Maelstrom gave us a better chance against Arasaka than having one or neither. </p><p> </p><p>Plus, I think being owed a favour from the Queen of the Afterlife was worth more. </p><p> </p><p>So I wracked my brain for places I knew Claws had their… claws in. And I avoided them like the dark net. That didn't leave me with much of Kabuki to maneuver through to lose my tail, but it was enough. Plus, while they might've had no qualms about hitting civs, I didn't really want to go into the busier areas and risk NCPD reports on shootings in the streets. It was only one truck, too. I could lose them easy. </p><p> </p><p>At least that was what I was thinking while desperately trying to ignore the stinging of each bullet catching against my shield. Maybe this was what Vik meant - you could only take so much annoying, constant pain before you yanked the implant outta your head yourself. I'd definitely be getting rid of it after this. I didn't make a habit of getting shot at enough to keep it, anyway. </p><p> </p><p>I threw my weight heavy on one side of the bike and skidded round the sharp corner that led downward - it disappeared into a dark tunnel I couldn't see the end of. But that was what Kiroshi Optics were for, so I sped on ahead, fully aware whatever their optical implants were probably doing the same for them. </p><p> </p><p>Would it help them notice the grenade rolling under their truck? Would it help them uselessly slam on, or try to swerve in such a skinny tunnel? </p><p> </p><p>No, I realised as the explosion near-deafened me. No it would not. </p><p> </p><p>I sped out of the tunnel just as the wave of heat from the blast caught up to me. In the weird half/half of the cold air outside and the explosion behind me, it was only like a nice fan of hot air. Breathing a sigh of relief, I took a few more turns to just make sure I definitely took care of my tail, and then slowed to a stop. </p><p> </p><p>My holo call rang a few times, before Dino picked up. </p><p> </p><p>"V, what's shakin'?" he greeted, particularly upbeat for a late evening. Some fixers came alive at night, I guessed. </p><p> </p><p>"The job, it's done. I've got your bike, where am I takin' it?" </p><p> </p><p>"Oh-hoh, shit! You've done it already? See, this is why I like you, V. Need it droppin' in the alley beside Akechi's, it's a sushi bar. It's a front. Claws'll be there to meet you."</p><p> </p><p>"I know the place. They know I'm comin'?" </p><p> </p><p>I didn't exactly trust they wouldn't just kill me on sight. </p><p> </p><p>"I'll give 'em a heads up. Text me when you've done the drop-off, and the cash's yours." </p><p> </p><p>With that the holo went silent. I sent Johnny a quick message, telling him where I'd be. Just before I set off, I got a follow-up. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>ASS-KING:</b>
</p><p><em> Be round the corner. Call me when ur there </em>. </p><p> </p><p>I hadn't expected him to come running to be backup, even just on call. I kicked away the bike stand, and left the alley I'd parked in - only to head directly for another five minutes from where I was. When I turned out onto the street I knew Akechi's was on, I dialled Johnny. The street was colourful and bright thanks to the dazzling neon overhead, advertising this eatery, that cheap hotel, other things written in Japanese I couldn't have hoped to understand without my translation software. Still, on neon signs, it was really fucking hard to read what my translator offered me amidst the haze of light. So I gave up, and focused on watching the store fronts pass by on my left. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright, headin' into the alley now." I said lowly to Johnny, taking the turn left into the dark little alleyway beside the tiny sushi restaurant. It was the right place - the <em> Akechi's </em>sign above the door wasn't neon, but I could still read it easily enough before I couldn't see it round the corner anymore. I shut off the engine, kicking out the stand and clambering off. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> You want me to come round? </em>" he asked, shockingly thoughtfully. Maybe sitting in his car again after fifty years really was doing favours for his mood. </p><p> </p><p>"Nah, stay in the car. Bring it up across the street, though." </p><p> </p><p>The Tyger Claws didn't leave me waiting long. While I was watching the entrance to the alley to see the Porsche roll up into park across the street, two guys rounded the corner and approached. One stared me down, looking me up and down and lingering a bit too long on my chest with an ugly smile on his face. The other checked out the bike, making sure it was legit I guessed. </p><p> </p><p>"This is the bike. You can go." he said, and I snorted at how prompt his dismissal was. I kept my guard up until I was out of the alley, at least - looking both ways, I crossed the street, and rounded the car to slide into the passenger seat of Johnny's Porsche. Only then did I take out my holo to text Dino confirmation that the job was done. </p><p> </p><p>I settled comfortably into the leather. The chairs had been upgraded from the tearing leather and thin cushions I'd left it in. I leaned back into the headrest, rolled my head to eye Johnny - he was already looking at me, a tiny smile on his lips. </p><p> </p><p>"Feel better?" I asked, and got a snort in response. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. Yeah, I feel better." he turned back to the road, and with an expert familiarity, pulled on the clutch as he put a foot down. The second we'd rolled out of the parking bay, the little car with a roar of an engine picked up, and Johnny was grinning. It was such a genuine, wide, toothy smile, I couldn't help but laugh as we wound down the windows. Night City flew by, from the quieter back streets to the chaos of downtown; the nightlife waking up, clubs opening, endless lines of people in skimpy clothes and flashy cars. While ours definitely wasn't flashy, it was fast, comfy, and worth every second of self-doubt I'd gone through for this op. Just to see the giddy, boyish joy on Johnny's face and in his posture as he gripped that steering wheel. </p><p> </p><p>"Where are we goin?" I asked, while I was digging around in the glovebox. I knew where we were; zoomed straight through Corpo Plaza onto Vista Del Rey, and we were now heading back up and round towards Japantown. Maybe Johnny didn't care where we were going. </p><p> </p><p>"Wait and see." he said with a dismissive shrug. </p><p> </p><p>There were a few - very on-brand - Samurai shards in their original packaging at the bottom of the glovebox. As much as Johnny wanted to listen to them, he fought with himself and insisted I leave them as they were so he could check them out himself when he wasn't so caught up driving his baby. I watched the city fly by out the window, until eventually the buildings grew sparse and I realised we were heading up into Westbrook. Part of me wondered if he was heading for Kerry's to show off, but he didn't take the right turn. By the time I realised where he was driving, it was already in sight. </p><p> </p><p>"Are you serious, Johnny?" I snorted. In the distance I could see the top of the giant screen of the drive-in theatre over the way. I'd brought him and Rogue here what felt like so long ago now; he'd claimed it was his idea, and Rogue had laughed at me for even believing Johnny could be romantic enough to think a date was more than a drink and a fuck. Sure, it wasn't very creative bringing me here. But he'd scored a point for coming here all on his own. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, you <em> did </em>say you've never seen Bushido-X." he said innocently, and it got me to snort again. </p><p> </p><p>The Porsche rolled into the entrance. It was, even after all the time away, still derelict. When was the last time NC council had given a shit about any of it, though? I wasn't surprised, and in fact quite pleased we'd be all alone. Johnny insisted we take the Porsche inside, despite all my warnings we wouldn't be able to get it through the gate. Still, I ate my words with some contentment when he found a button in the small office we'd broke into that lifted the gates partially with a groan and a shudder. He hefted them up the rest of the way to let me drive the Porsche on through the little gap. </p><p> </p><p>I was perched on the hood of the car when the movie screen flickered to life. It was ancient tech, and it still worked - it was impressive, really. Like people, old school technology was clinging to existence and somehow, it was working out for them. I leaned back comfortably on my hands while I waited for Johnny to come back. </p><p> </p><p>"Did you really bring me here to watch Bushido-X?" I hummed as I heard his footsteps coming close, "Or so we could be alone with this fancy car of yours?" </p><p> </p><p>"Whadda you think?" he asked dryly, and I cocked my head at him as he came around to the front of the car. Sure, he completely blocked my view of the screen, but that was less and less of a problem as he settled his hands on my knees, and drew them apart to make room for himself to stand between them. </p><p> </p><p>I played innocent. "Y'know, I don't know." I shrugged, and noticed the tiny upward twitch of his lips. I shuffled closer to the edge, and let my fingers trail down his chest. "Maybe, just maybe - it could be that you just really wanted to be alone?" </p><p> </p><p>"V." he looked at me with an unimpressed look, though I knew he was biting back a smirk. "Shut the fuck up." </p><p> </p><p>Squaring my shoulders, I sat up. "Make me." I challenged. </p><p> </p><p>So he did. Anything I said from then on wasn't really coherent, mumbles here, gasps and moans there. Fucking on the hood of a car was definitely a new experience, but surprisingly not as bad as I would've thought. And Bushido-X really wasn't that bad when we actually paid attention. It was cheesy and the special effects definitely placed closer to the start of the century than the end. But I didn't mind all that much, because I wasn't really paying enough attention to care. I was too busy over thinking what we were doing; the relaxed half-lying posture Johnny had taken against the windshield, one hand behind his head, the other round my shoulders. I had my head on his shoulder, and while he was watching the movie, I was staring at where our feet were inches off touching. </p><p> </p><p>It really got me thinking. When had this become more than a fuck? Because this definitely wasn't just for fun, this felt like so much more. But when hadn't it been like this? As far back as I could remember, I'd wanted this - the affection, the care after we'd done the deed. And for whatever reason, he'd been happy to provide. Content, that was how we both felt. Once upon a time, when he was out of my reach - just a ghost in my head - I'd thought what I felt towards him was simple desire. Lust, easy as that. But when I'd had him, it wasn't enough. So I kept going back, not knowing what it meant. And now there we were. </p><p> </p><p>I could hear the soft beat of his heart against my ear. Was this what it felt like to really, and I mean <em> really, </em>care about someone else? I'd cared about Jackie, but that was completely different. I cared about Misty, Vik, Panam. Rogue to some extent. But Johnny? Compared to them, when I thought of him, the feeling in my gut was wrenching. It was enough to make me crazy happy and angry at the same time. I didn't understand it, but I was scared to go deeper. I didn't want to dig in case it brought up things neither of us wanted to consider. </p><p> </p><p>"It's cold." I breathed with a huff as I sat up. It was, but not impossibly. I could've laid with him there all night if I hadn't let my mind get carried away with these thoughts. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny sat up with a soft grunt, and rubbed at his eyes. It had been a long day for both of us, but I think the roller-coaster of emotions was starting to take its toll on him. "You wanna go home?" he asked, and the little flip my heart did just made me more frustrated. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, let's go home." </p><p> </p><p>… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>MARCH 19th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Heywood, Wellsprings … 11:03AM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>When I came out of my shower, the morning show on Night FM playing throughout the apartment, I was feeling quite refreshed and in high spirits. It was admittedly strange to feeling so good for once, but I wasn't going to let anything ruin it. Not the fact that Johnny was still in bed with the sheets tangled around his sprawled limbs, not the fact we had very little in the cupboards to have for breakfast, nor that rent was due. </p><p> </p><p>Except my jolly mood came crashing to an abrupt halt when I checked my holo. </p><p> </p><p>An unknown number, and they didn't introduce themselves either - my mysterious new contact had simply dropped a message in my inbox and fled. <em> Literally </em>; when I tried to text back to ask who it was, the number was blocked or unavailable. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>UNKNOWN NUMBER:</b>
</p><p>
  <em> V, I must speak with you. It has been quite some time, but it is important. Please, come see me in the Japantown markets today at noon. Come alone.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>They could kindly request all they wanted, and they could fuck off. It was shady as all hell, and if they wanted to give me a job, they would've let me actually contact them. Still, sometimes well-paying clients were skittish and paranoid, needed to meet in person before they'd even consider me the right person to the job. And that was usually on top of me coming recommended. </p><p> </p><p>But I had to admit, I was curious. So much so that as I pottered about the kitchen, I found myself considering it. What could go wrong? The Japantown markets - assuming they meant the floating ones - were busy and always hectic at noon. Plus, they said come alone, but they wouldn't know it I had a shadow with a silver arm. </p><p> </p><p>Speaking of… Wordlessly I crossed the room to the bed, and threw myself back onto it. A muffled shout came from under a pillow as I ended up against his back, and a groan as he came to. His hand came up to aimlessly paw at the pillow over his head until he managed to get a grip, yank it off, and his crazy bedhead revealed itself as he hauled his head up to look at me. </p><p> </p><p>"Bitch." he grumbled, and I leaned over to place a kiss on his nose. </p><p> </p><p>"Mornin', sunshine." I cooed, and he let his face flop down against the mattress rather than address my bounding morning optimism. "Come on, get dressed. We're goin' out." </p><p> </p><p>His voice was muffled and slurred, like he was talking with the one corner of his mouth not completely squished to his pillow. "Fuck you." he spat, "You elbowed me." </p><p> </p><p>"It was an elbow of affection. See?" </p><p> </p><p>In his efforts to get away from my pointy elbow grinding against the small of his back, he shuffled until he collapsed on the floor in a heap. </p><p> </p><p>"Well," I shrugged, "That works." </p><p> </p><p>He sat up to look at me in time to flinch as his shirt smacked him in the nose. </p><p> </p><p>A good twenty minutes or so when Johnny was functioning - after a tall mug of strong coffee - we got into his car. Shit-heap was beginning to be strongly neglected out in the parking bay in front of the apartment building, but she was used to neglect. Had been for who-knows how long before we bought her. </p><p> </p><p>He drove down to Japantown while I checked my iron. It was still pathetically shoddy-looking beside Johnny's Malorian Arms in my other hand, and I sighed dreamily at the thought of the day when I'd get a weapon of my own that was so unique, it became iconic. Johnny without his handgun was like chopping off his arm. By now it was ingrained in who he was, not as a person, but a symbol. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright, what's the plan?" he asked as he found a bay to park in off the main street. There were multiple elevators around here that'd take us up. I pointed one out to him. </p><p> </p><p>"You go up there, I'll take that one," I poked a thumb behind me. "Whoever this person is'll know who they're lookin' for, so they'll come meet me soon enough." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny nodded with no complaint. The fact he was just listening to my instructions nowadays without any sort of pushback was almost worrying - <em> the </em>Johnny Silverhand, tame? Willing to listen? Felt fake. </p><p> </p><p>He opened his mouth and I expected the problem to come rolling out. But he surprised me; "Don't take any chances, V." he said, "If it's dodgy, get out. I don't care what he's offerin'." </p><p> </p><p>I squeezed his hand where it rested on the gearstick between us. "I can take care of myself, big guy." I reminded him, not like he needed it. "But I'll be careful. I'll be fine anyway - you're watchin' my ass." </p><p> </p><p>"And you could not pay me enough to stop." </p><p> </p><p>I barked a laugh and got out of the car. We split up, and my elevator reached the markets first. I was assaulted by senses; it was bustling and loud, a complete chaotic choir completely different to the streets below. The frying of pans on the street food stalls, the chatter and shouts of people's voices. It was a clash of smells, too, all different flavours of scents of the food on offer. It hadn't changed a bit since I last came here. </p><p> </p><p>The last time I came here was with Goro Takemura. </p><p> </p><p>Shaking off the memory of that hectic parade escapade we'd pulled off, I decided to position myself on a bridge between the two lower halves of the market. My holo buzzed and I answered without bothering to greet the caller, because I knew it was Johnny. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Above you, on your right </em>." he said, and I glanced up nonchalantly to see him leaning down on the rail on the next floor up. He wiggled his fingers at me in a half-assed wave. </p><p> </p><p>All that was left then was to wait. I watched the street below, as cars zipped by underneath me. It was strangely hypnotic, and made me a bit dizzy, so I contemplated going to get something to fill my empty stomach. Still, it'd be difficult for this supposed client to find me it I didn't stick in one spot. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> V, on your left. </em>" </p><p> </p><p>I blinked to alertness at Johnny's call. Sure enough, I glanced to my left to see someone approaching with a bit more purpose than the people simply passing by. He was wearing a long, fashionable coat, probably made by some sort of fancy and soft synthetic weave. The sort that was expensive that only corpos wore - and underneath I saw flashes of a tailored suit, black and crisp. I looked up to look him in the eyes, and was hit by a strange wave of nostalgia. Things had changed, but somehow the weary look on his face hadn't. </p><p> </p><p>"V." he greeted, polite as ever, "It's good to see you." </p><p> </p><p>"Lookin' good, Goro." </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed &lt;3 if you did, please consider leaving me a comment! Reading them makes my day &lt;3</p><p>Also, I promise smutty chapters will happen soon and I'll stop being a tease about it! I'm just hesitant to mingle nsfw stuff into the plot because I don't want people to miss out if they choose not to read it! </p><p>If you wanna come find me on tumblr, I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a>! Or, if you wanna come yell about Cyberpunk with other crazies, come and join The Cyberpunks server on discord! I'm quite active there, if you wanna come hang out and scream about this game with us:</p><p> <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Click here!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Permanent Daisies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>MARCH 19th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Westbrook, Japantown … 12:15PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>"Lookin' good, Goro." </p><p> </p><p>Takemura bent at the waist to bow elegantly at me, and I extended the same courtesy - with my head, at least. While it probably should’ve been obvious from the way he’d texted, the meeting location, the mysterious contact, I was surprised to see him. He hadn’t reached out to me at all after the disaster that struck our “plan” after nabbing Hanako Arasaka from that parade. I’d saved his life and all I’d gotten was a shitty selfie and a message, and we’d fallen out of contact like I’d broke off with everyone when I’d left NC. </p><p> </p><p>“You look well, V.” he said, his eyes not dipping lower than my chin. He was so prim and proper, it was vaguely refreshing from the usual etiquette in this city, but made me feel small at the exact same time. </p><p> </p><p>I nodded. “I am. You?” </p><p> </p><p>“I am… Facing a…” he searched for the word in English, and settled instead on a Japanese word. My translator spat out, “Conundrum.” still too fancy to go anywhere near my vocabulary. </p><p> </p><p>"I see. The sorta conundrum I can help with?" </p><p> </p><p>I was good at only a few things: kicking ass, looking sexy, and being incredibly helpful. Goro already knew those things, so it wasn't really a shock when he nodded. </p><p> </p><p>"Come, it is unsafe to talk here." he said, beckoning me with him across the bridge. I shot a look up at Johnny, whose suggestion was to shake his head. Then again, I'd never listened to Johnny's opinion about Takemura, and I'd always been right. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> V, I swear, if you go with him- </em>" he began, but cut himself off while he wracked his head for a good threat. When he didn't, I snorted and walked off to catch up to Goro. </p><p> </p><p>"So, whatcha been up to?" I asked curiously, friendly. Trying to fill the awkward silence as we got into an otherwise-empty elevator, and rode it up a few floors. </p><p> </p><p>"Very busy," he responded without many specifics, "Lots to do. It's been very… Chaotic." </p><p> </p><p>"I get that." and I did. It had been a hectic month since coming back, and things weren't looking to settle down anytime soon. If anything, this was only the beginning. "So are ya gonna tell me what this is about?" </p><p> </p><p>"Not here." he said simply, his eyes shooting up to the corner - sure enough I saw the teeny tiny telltale sign of a camera. I don't know who would watch this footage, but someone probably would, meaning if it was <em> that </em>top secret, he was already risking it by being seen with me. By being seen here. The elevator finally dinged after what felt like forever. "Come." he stepped out. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Sure, what the hell? Go with him. Nothing's gonna go wrong here. </em> " Johnny's voice grumbled in my ear. I heard the distant sounds of the market through his holo, and the little bell noise of him pressing an elevator button. I was grateful he was being my backup, but I trusted Goro <em> not </em>to kill me. After all, he owed me - I saved his life. And if he was anything, Goro Takemura was a man of honour, a rare sight indeed in this city. We both knew the score, and he wouldn't do me dirty.</p><p> </p><p>I followed him through the building we were in; it was under construction, derelict. Just like it was the last time I'd been here - when I'd killed his ex-protégé Sandayu Oda. That man had single-handedly struck a fear of mantis blades into me for the rest of my life; he was so goddamn fast, left me with a dozen slices all over, and <em> really </em> didn't want to go down. If I closed my eyes, I could see it all over. The huge empty space plunged into dark, lit only by the flood of neon through the windows. They were my only hint that Oda was there, he was invisible - a flash of metal under the light, and <em> bang </em> ! My bullet had gone right through his heart while the tip of his blade was <em> centimetres </em>from mine. I'd collapsed with him, panting for breath, except he didn't get back up with me. </p><p> </p><p>I hadn't meant to kill him. I didn't want to, Takemura had pleaded with me to let him live. But that had been as close to breaking down to pure panic I'd ever gone on a job. I seriously thought I was going to die, and the conditions of the fight were definitely not angled in my favour. I think after the stim I took, I had been running on pure adrenaline for the better half of that fight. My hands had been so shaky I thought my eyes were messing with me. That had been one of the few times that Johnny's voice in my head and his spectral fingers on my shoulder had snapped me outta the fear that'd gripped me. </p><p> </p><p>Takemura took a dozen or so strides out into the space, stopping by the window. The netrunner I'd been tracking had setup here - I had been seconds away from disconnecting her from the net when Oda had showed up. In fact, Goro was only a few steps off where his one-time student had died. </p><p> </p><p>There was something sadly poetic about it. </p><p> </p><p>"You gonna talk to me, Goro?" I prompted, folding my arms across my chest. If Johnny didn't get my <em> stay-the-fuck-outside </em>method via our dodgy telepathy, I only had so much time before he came crashing in. </p><p> </p><p>"I… Yes." he cleared his throat and turned to look at me with his hands clasped behind him. He looked almost like a completely different guy nowadays - no longer scruffy, a strong man fallen from grace. In fact, he looked as if he'd somehow slotted right back in where he'd slipped. Like he was running with corpos again, instead of a lowlife merc like me. "I am sorry for the subterfuge in contacting you. I thought it best for us both that I employ some… Subtlety."</p><p> </p><p>"Sure, that's okay." I nodded, trying to be understanding. In truth I hated being messed about, but this was how it had always been with Goro. "What's all this about?" </p><p> </p><p>Takemura breathed out a low breath. He turned to me with something of a remorseful look. </p><p> </p><p>"I've come with a warning." he said, "I have heard news of you… Aligning yourself with people who wish to do harm to Hanako-sama." </p><p> </p><p>I couldn't help it - the little breathy of disbelief came outta me first. </p><p> </p><p>"So you're back with Arasaka." I observed. Suddenly the suit, the coat, the way he held himself like he was a man worth something again - it all made sense. I mean, I'd still considered him a good guy even without the Arasaka threads, but he hadn't. Loyal without a fault, even when those he gave his loyalty were trying to kill him. </p><p> </p><p>"Yorinobu-san no longer requires punishment," he said as if it were obvious, "And as such he is no longer an obstacle for Hanako-sama, and for a man such as myself who was discarded like a simple tool. I was loyal for many years to her father, and so now I serve Hanako-sama." </p><p> </p><p>I rubbed at my brow. Hanako this, Hanako that. Bitch rubbed me the wrong way in all the wrong places, but he'd always had nothing but respect for her. I felt a bit of Johnny's cynacism creeping in when I really considered it. The whole idea of bowing down to corps, to elevating another person to a status higher than your own and holding them firmly on a pedestal of respect. It was gross, the whole thing. I couldn't imagine doing it; sure, I respected Rogue, but I'd still punch her if she really toed a line. And I'd expect to be punched back, because that was fair. </p><p> </p><p>If Goro punched up, he'd be shot dead. </p><p> </p><p>"So is this a threat?" I said with a sigh. "You'll kill me if I don't agree to back off?" </p><p> </p><p>Johnny was getting more and more agitated as the elevator made its slow ascent. "<em> Fuckin' knew it. 'Saka dog. </em> " he spat, " <em> Get the fuck outta there, V. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>I ignored him, and waited for Goro. </p><p> </p><p>"If you force my hand, I will do what I must." yet despite the so-called conviction in his voice, he didn't look convinced. I picked up on it, and quirked a brow. </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh. So you'd shoot me right now if I told you I wasn't gonna give up on what's goin' down?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> V, what the </em> <b> <em>fuck </em> </b> <em> are you doin'? I'm gonna kill you myself before he gets a chance </em>!" </p><p> </p><p>But like I knew he would, Takemura hesitated. He growled a sigh, and turned to glare out of the window. That was all I needed to know - the fact he turned his back on me, even after <em> threatening </em>to kill me without remorse, meant he trusted me. He trusted me when he was a wreck, at rock bottom, and he trusted me then, even when he had his life back. </p><p> </p><p>"Arasaka are powerful, V." he said, softer. I joined him at the window and we stared down at the distant shapes of people going about their biz in the markets. "They have <em> always </em>been powerful. Your little rebellion, it will end in slaughter. You will die. Your Afterlife will finally be fitting to its name." </p><p> </p><p>"No, Goro, Arasaka are <em> crumblin' </em>." I glanced up at him, and noticed the flash of conflict in his eyes. "You know it as well as I do, things are shit in there. Things are fallin' apart, people are jumpin' ship. It's not too late." </p><p> </p><p>His dark eyes flashed up to look at me incredulously. "You are not suggesting I join you?" </p><p> </p><p>"Why not? You kick ass, and Arasaka have already fucked you once. I say, don't let them have another chance." </p><p> </p><p>He looked near-horrified by the idea. For a second he just stood there, mouth slightly agape, and then he sighed. Again. </p><p> </p><p>"I cannot betray what I stand for." he decided, and before I could interject, his hand shot up to cut me off. "What <em> I </em> stand for, V. Not Arasaka. I will die a man of honour, protecting my charge. I will not," he paused, and his face crumpled into a scowl, " <em> Jump ship </em>because I fear death."</p><p> </p><p>"And you expect me to… What? Let Arasaka recover so they can hunt me to the ends of the earth?" I shook my head, "No, I'm gonna fight." </p><p> </p><p>Takemura shook his head. "That is the difference between us, V. I do not fear my death, but I am in no rush to greet the reaper. You - you <em> crave </em>it. You chase it like as if it were prey, and you the hunter." </p><p> </p><p>I barked a laugh. "Okay, hold it there, bud. I didn't <em> chase </em>death. Arasaka's fuckin' biochip did that for me." </p><p> </p><p>"And who inserted the chip?" </p><p> </p><p>I ran my tongue along my teeth, folding my arms. "I'll have you know," I huffed, "My priorities have changed. I have something to live for, Goro. I have something to protect. I'm not letting Arasaka take him from me." </p><p> </p><p>Takemura eyed me wearily. I'd be tired of my bullshit in his position too, but what he didn't know was that I wasn't lying to anyone. Not him, not myself - not to Johnny in my ear. </p><p> </p><p>"That's what makes us different, Goro." I continued, spitefully. "You're a dog servin' a master. I'm livin' for myself, and I have a cause to fight for. You'll go down with your ship even if you know it's hopeless, because of your <em> honour </em>." </p><p> </p><p>A soft whistle rang through my holo. "<em> That's my girl </em> ." Johnny said lowly, and I struggled to keep my face straight. " <em> You know how turned on I am right now? </em>" </p><p> </p><p>A question better not answered there and then. </p><p> </p><p>"So, is that it?" I asked, settling my hands comfortably on my hips. "Your conscience clear? Feel better now that you've given me a chance to run?" </p><p> </p><p>Takemura's eyes narrowed dangerously, but it didn't scare me. </p><p> </p><p>"You once saved my life, V." he said, "By being here, by giving you this warning, I repay the favour. Leave this cesspool of a city, and your life will be spared." </p><p> </p><p>I turned my back on him, and it was my turn to sigh. "You're really sure on fightin' for Arasaka?" I asked. For a long while, there was silence. </p><p> </p><p>"I will do what my heart tells me is right." he decided on. That didn't exactly sound convincing. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Reeks of doubt and uncertainty. </em>" Johnny quite rightly put. I often forgot he had his own special way with words; he was too busy mouthing off and cursing to let the poet in his head free. </p><p> </p><p>Takemura stepped past me, back towards the elevator. I watched him go, and just before he reached it, I called after him. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry, Goro." I said. "If it… Comes to that." </p><p> </p><p>We all knew what I was talking about. He turned to look at me over his shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>"As am I, V. You were a good friend." he offered me one final, deep bow. Respectful, regretful. He straightened up, and for a while, he simply stood there; eyes lingered on the wall out of my sight. Somehow, I knew what he was seeing without having to ask. Johnny, leaned against the wall, arms folded, casual and at ease. Almost daring Takemura to follow up on his promise. </p><p> </p><p>But then, Takemura simply bowed his head at him, too. </p><p> </p><p>He stepped into the elevator, and the doors slid shut behind him. </p><p> </p><p>… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>MARCH 27th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Heywood, Wellsprings … 7:32PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Nowadays, when I slept, my dreams were always about Johnny. Not out of choice, definitely not - I didn't want to be seeing the guy he hid away from me; not the young soldier fighting the shit fight in Mexico, nor the asshole he'd grown to be ashamed of. So, I'd close my eyes to get some shut eye and wake up in his body, in the distant past, and I'd play out his memories. </p><p> </p><p>This was different though. This wasn't one of Johnny's memories. </p><p> </p><p>It was one of <em> mine </em>.</p><p> </p><p>I'd talked to Johnny about it, offhandedly mentioning my dreams. He'd seen bits and pieces of my life through the same means, but more often than not he didn't dream. He told me that it just didn't happen anymore, and it was one of the few things he missed about his life before he died. I, on the other hand, dreamt a lot. Too much, actually. Every time I shut my eyes. </p><p> </p><p>But seeing my own past was new. </p><p> </p><p>It was so vivid. I found myself on that little suburban street outside that little suburban house. The front garden was tended to, lawn moved short, paving stones leading to the front porch free of weeds and tangles. The house itself was quaint and its panels were painted a soft pastel blue. It looked like the sky, I remember saying. </p><p> </p><p>So this was before everything then. The house had never looked this well-kept since, and by now, it was probably in complete disarray. Maybe it had even collapsed. Did I care? Should I? I didn't really have time to consider it, because tiny me was wandering, skipping up the path with a happier gait than I'd ever had since. She - <em> I </em> - was humming a song but I didn't recognise it. My taste in music had definitely changed since, because this was far too chipper of a tune. Little Vivian plonked herself down on the steps up to the porch, turning to the flowers in her hands. </p><p> </p><p><em> Daisies </em> . I'd picked them from our yard, convinced they were the prettiest thing in the world. Maybe this was the time when I'd started making daisy chains and fashioning them into crowns or bracelets for my favourite people in the world - mom and dad. I'd make my own and he'd tell me I was a princess. I'd been so devastated when I realised flowers that were <em> not </em>in the ground would die and rot. </p><p> </p><p>So my dad had come home one night with a little surprise, a more permanent daisy. A tiny, yapping Beagle, curious and friendly. She'd been my whole world. Strangely I could remember overhearing an adult conversation I was sure I wasn't meant to - <em> "How did you afford a dog? How are we meant to afford to feed another mouth?" - "Does it matter? Vivie's happy." </em>Maybe my mom's reluctance should've been the first sign something was wrong. </p><p> </p><p>When I blinked and opened my eyes again, little Viv was a bit bigger. Could understand why dad came home on shaky feet, quickly learned what the liquid in that bottle of his did to his head. We couldn't afford Daisy, because we couldn't afford ourselves. They'd never let it show to me, their baby, how utterly fucked we were. The facade cracked when the corp paying my dad's salary decided he wasn't useful anymore, though. So he started drinking away his depression, amounting to nothing more than a useless husband and a high tab in every local bar. He'd roughly pat me on the head as he stumbled into the house, and then I'd have to go further into the garden to avoid hearing the rows at full volume. </p><p> </p><p>But then there was that one night. I tried not to think about it because I didn't want to think about it - it was one of <em> those </em>memories, the sort people paid for therapists over. I'd never had the eddies for it so instead of getting over it, I'd buried it. My dad had come home, the usual shit show started, except mom insisted I stay and finish my dinner. It had been uncomfortable, tense, and I hated every goddamn second. Daisy had sat between my feet under the table the whole while, whimpering at the loud noises but too loyal to leave me alone. Stupid dog. I'd loved that stupid, affectionate dog. </p><p> </p><p>It happened so fast. Dad had hit mom, come for me when I begged him to stop. I swore I'd never heard a louder gunshot than the one that hit my dad right in the back of the head. Daisy had gone crazy at the sound, barking so loud, so fast, nonstop. If seeing my dad shot dead wasn't enough, mom had snapped. Lost it. <em> That damn dog won't shut the fuck up! </em>And then another bang. A whimper, more blood staining the tiles. </p><p> </p><p>That daisy had lasted a bit longer than the others I'd kept. But not long enough. </p><p> </p><p>I woke with a start. Clammy and - inexplicably - terrified, I threw back the sheets, struggling with how tangled they were around my limbs. When finally I was free of them, I stumbled right into the bathroom and, still wearing my bed clothes, just stood under a hot showerhead for a bit. Eventually my heart stopped hammering into my ribs, and I started breathing deeper again, so I peeled off the soaked through t-shirt and shorts. </p><p> </p><p>When I got out, I had a long stare at myself in the mirror. I'd gone <em> years </em> without thinking about Daisy, about Vivian Frazier and her fucked up parents. For years and years and <em> years </em> I'd blamed them. Blamed my dad for turning to drink, to my mom for finding that damn gun and knowing how to pull the trigger. Even blamed Daisy to some extent for not learning to stop barking when I told her to shush. And of course, I'd always come full circle and blamed myself; little Vivian, obsessed with daisies. Being the cause of it all, because my parents had been so desperate to make <em> me </em>happy. </p><p> </p><p>Was it Johnny rubbing off on me, maybe, that I was now reconsidering it? His cynicism, his anger, that made me think about the real cause of it all. We'd never been rich, but we'd never been well-off. That tiny house had been all we'd known because my parents could afford nothing better. My parents had lived paycheque to paycheque, never knowing if the next cut was gonna be enough to buy food for their growing daughter next week. </p><p> </p><p>It had taken me so many years, but I finally realised who was to blame. The fucking corpos. </p><p> </p><p>I stepped out of the bathroom with a purpose. I didn't know what yet, but I was sure as hell figuring it out as I got dressed. Johnny was nowhere to be seen; he'd said he was going to visit Ker before I stumbled into my nap. That was okay, I'd been solo long enough, I could do this without him. Plus, this felt too… Personal. Involving Johnny might just make things messy, and he already had some grasp on my fucked up childhood. I was sure he didn't want to be involved any more than he had to with all that baggage.</p><p> </p><p>I slapped on my holster and checked my handgun was loaded. My hair was a mess but I didn't have time to think about it, I just combed my fingers through it as I went down the stairs. The key to Shit-heap was in my pocket, and as I clambered in, I suddenly missed the soft leather of Johnny's Porsche. It felt like it had been a millennia since I'd taken Shit-heap for a spin. </p><p> </p><p>So I started driving. I'd head to After, ask around, see if <em> anyone </em>remembered CramberTech. I needed to end this once and for all, to be able to bury the Fraziers and little Daisy. I was done running, from Arasaka, from my past. </p><p> </p><p>Or at least, that was what I was planning on doing. Shit-heap wasn't as fast as the Porsche so I couldn't put my foot down and speed on through as I would've liked. So when I caught sight of a pet store, I tried to keep driving. I really did. I fought with myself for the next three blocks before I let out a frustrated yell and turned the truck around. </p><p> </p><p>I was just going to look. That's all, I'd look. Maybe do a stupid thing and impulse buy a tortoise or a parrot. Maybe some fish. </p><p> </p><p>The store was quiet, open late for even a weekday. A radio was playing in the background but too low of a volume to actually hear it. Right beside the door, the cashier was sitting behind the counter reading a screamsheet, looking so utterly bored out of his mind he could've just imploded on the spot. I'd never really been in this kinda store before, passed by them and glanced in the windows, but never paid attention. I didn't see the point in pets after Daisy, but Johnny had convinced me that having an animal companion was worthwhile after Nibbles. Having Nibbles around had been oddly therapeutic for both of us. </p><p> </p><p>I idly wandered for a bit round the front of the store, trying to convince myself it was better to leave now before I went near the back where animals were kept. I needed therapy, not a fucking pet. But my feet were carrying me down the aisles of pet supplies anyway, and the moment my boots made noise nearby, the bottom row of cages woke up and started pawing at their doors. Namely, the row of dogs. </p><p> </p><p>Oh <em> no </em> . Oh no, oh <em> fuck </em>. In the bottom left cage, I saw a Beagle. Instantly. </p><p> </p><p>"You don't need a fuckin' dog, V." I whispered to myself. "You don't need a dog. You don't need a dog. You don't need a-" </p><p> </p><p>Twenty minutes later I was sat in Shit-heap, exactly where I'd parked it. I'd already walked out of the store once and back in again because my self-restraint was as fickle as Johnny's ego. It was why now, a curious little puppy was padding its way up and down the couch of the cab next to me. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck." I huffed. But it was too late to change my mind now; I'd already gotten carried away. A big, shit-talking merc like me, rocking up to that cashier's counter with a pet bed and a bowl with a daisy print on both. And a shit ton worth of food, puppy training pads, the lot. </p><p> </p><p>My parents hadn't had the money to take care of Daisy. Me, on the other hand? I had enough money to take care of Daisy. </p><p> </p><p>I reluctantly dialled Ass-King on the holo. I knew my contact was probably set to Bitch or something on his end. </p><p> </p><p>And people said romance was dead. </p><p> </p><p>It rang a few times before he answered with a, "<em> Yeah </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>"Hello to you too." I snorted, "Don't you know to answer a fuckin' call, Johnny?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Oh, sorry, do I gotta introduce myself to you when I know it's you callin'? </em> " he grumbled dryly. I could hear the faint strumming of guitar strings in the background, Kerry probably. " <em> What's up, V </em> ?" Johnny asked, " <em> Why you callin'?"  </em></p><p> </p><p>I hesitated. Glanced down at Daisy next to me, who looked up at me with those big brown eyes. Literal puppy dog eyes - and as if she knew I was reluctant, she barked to announce herself. </p><p> </p><p><em> "Was that a bark </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>"I… Might have bought a dog." I said quietly. I waited for his judgement, his <em> what the fuck, V? </em>But it never came. </p><p> </p><p>Instantly, he said, "<em> Beagle </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah." </p><p> </p><p>For a minute, we didn't speak. I just stared down at the puppy waiting for me attentively, front paws on my thigh. What the fuck was I doing? Did I just impulse-buy the same dog that was partially the cause for my lifelong childhood trauma? </p><p> </p><p>Yes. Fuck. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Okay," </em> Johnny said, and I was expecting a lot more resistance, " <em> I'll pack in here. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"You don't have to come home-" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Be there in ten. </em>" </p><p> </p><p>I drove back to the apartment, half-expecting to see the Porsche there before me. While this hadn't been an effective use of my time, it was probably better impulse-buying a dog instead of impulse-hunting some old corpos who went under twenty years ago. Little Daisy 2.0 didn't fix anything, but she definitely changed things. She'd stopped me racing off to do something stupid while I was upset, so she got credit for that. </p><p> </p><p>I waited in Shit-heap until Johnny got back. Daisy curled up next to me, head on my lap, and I listened to the quiet tunes of 88.3 Pacific Dreams. Despite being childishly giddy about a puppy in my lap, I felt sort of… Empty. Maybe it was the guilt of doing this sorta big decision so thoughtlessly, maybe it was the nightmare still reeling on me. But I'd felt off all week, since meeting with Takemura. I felt like I was stuck in a loop, waiting for Rogue to call, taking job after job, dreading the day I'd have to put a bullet in my friend. I was in a rut. I was tired of the day to day. But if not this wasn't what I wanted, then what was? </p><p> </p><p>I spent too much time wondering what I wanted, lately. </p><p> </p><p>The flash of headlights behind me signalled Johnny pulling in. The engine died, and he came around to the driver's side as I pulled open the door. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, you weren't kiddin'." he mumbled when he saw little Daisy in my lap. </p><p> </p><p>"You thought I was?" </p><p> </p><p>"Ker reckoned you were fuckin' with me. I thought, <em> she can't have bought a dog. Why would she buy a dog </em>?" he scratched at the side of his head with his metal fingers. "But you bought a dog." </p><p> </p><p>"Her name's Daisy." I introduced. I half-considered not naming her at all, but I knew if I just left her as Dog, Johnny would invent a dumb name for her and I didn't want her responding to something like <em> Pickles. </em> </p><p> </p><p>For a second, Johnny hesitated. Then he reached in, very gently picked up the Beagle in both hands, and drew her to his chest. A tiny smile flickered at my face at how protectively he was holding her, giving the underside of her chin a little scratch.</p><p> </p><p>"Come on, Samurai," Johnny said to me. He hadn't called me <em> that </em>in a while, but I snorted and yanked the puppy haul with me. It didn't take long to set everything up for her; her little food and water bowls at the end of the kitchen counter, her bed at the end of ours. It was almost like everything I'd bought fit perfectly into empty spaces that needed something to fill them. Seeing her curiously investigate the apartment, paw at Johnny's legs, him crouch down to let her lick his beard - it made it all seem like a good idea. It made me feel a little better about the whole impulse-buy situation. </p><p> </p><p>At least until she pissed in Johnny's boots. </p><p> </p><p>… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>APRIL 11th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Watson, Little China :: The Afterlife … 12:34PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The second we stepped into Afterlife, it was obvious <em> something </em> was going down. The first hint was the parking lot filled by armored vehicles, wearing spray jobs of groups I wasn't all that eager to see hanging round here; Maelstrom <em> and </em>Claws, not a good fucking sign. The second was the absolute silent void that the pounding music usually filled as Johnny and I went down the stairs and were greeted with a polite nod from Emmerick. </p><p> </p><p>"She's waitin' in back for ya." he said, jerking his head toward the doors opening for us. Johnny sidestepped around him and by doing, came closer to my side. He didn't back off when we headed inside the bar either. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue had called me that morning, woke us both up in fact. Johnny had worked some magic to keep Daisy from barking her little heart out while I talked to her - didn't need her thinking we'd both gone soft over a puppy. We <em> had </em>, but she didn't need to know. She'd gotten wind of something big going down, and she needed us in, whether we wanted to or not. Thinking I'd ever stand a chance at resisting the offer - I didn't, thanks to Johnny being oh-so-eager to strike at Arasaka wherever he could - Rogue had tried to sweeten the deal with big eddies. </p><p> </p><p>I'd resigned myself to defeat before I'd even hung up. When Johnny asked me what she wanted, I'd told him straight up that she needed our help for some big gig again, knowing full well it would be about Arasaka. It had served as a better way to get him up, out of bed and dressed than anything I'd tried yet. He'd spat theories at me over breakfast, what we Rogue could have us doing, what <em> 'Saka dog she'd have us put down </em>. He'd apologised to Daisy right after in a baby voice I didn't know he was able to make. I'd just nodded, not offering my own, not really engaging. I'd been happy for a little while here, between Johnny and the little Beagle that had found a seat in the empty holes in our hearts. I was afraid of ruining it by resisting. I was afraid to kill the mutual understanding we'd reached by arguing with him. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn't like I had a choice anymore. He'd heard what I'd said to Goro, with so much conviction it wouldn't have been a stretch to say I believed in the words I'd spat. I'd fight for what I cared about, yeah. If some gonk put a gun to Johnny's face, I'd beat the shit out of them with no hesitation. If some gonk <em> hurt </em> Johnny, I'd fucking kill them - <em> no hesitation </em>. But I couldn't keep living day to day, I had to consider what the future could be like. We were done running, but part of me wanted to give up and keep fleeing to avoid gambling on this chance at ending Arasaka once and for all. </p><p> </p><p>"Stay close to me, 'kay?" Johnny murmured in my ear as we surveyed the state of Afterlife. Two groups, Tyger Claws on one end, Maelstrom on the other. They were talking between themselves when before we came in, and all turned to stare in silence as the door shut behind us. It would be menacing if we weren't on Rogue's turf. Still, remembering what happened at that Maelstrom gig last month was playing on my mind, and made me a bit tense as we walked past them. </p><p> </p><p>I wanted to laugh, to tell Johnny I could take care of myself. But he knew that already; walking so close to me, one hand on the holster at his hip, it was a show. A <em> don't fuckin' think about it </em>kinda show, a warning. If I hadn't seen the way he was behaving with Daisy in the last few weeks, I wouldn't have known he was trying to be protective of me. He didn't need to, but it still warmed the cold cockles of my heart. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> I'll get us out of this, V, </em> " he'd said to me that night when my time was running out, when our options were few. I'd taken his hand, and he'd squeezed my arm. " <em> Even if I have to burn this whole fuckin' city to the ground. </em>" </p><p> </p><p>The impressive glare in his eyes told me that that offer still stood. </p><p> </p><p>We headed round back, and it felt eerie to see the bar un-womaned by Claire, to notice the empty booths, to hear no music, to see bright lights turned on in the back rooms. We stepped through a doorway and out of sight of the two gang groups, finding Rogue in front of a wall plastered with a map of Night City. It looked like something out of an old detective show, but instead of solving crimes, she was instigating them across points on the map. In the room with her were two gangers - heads of the respective groups, probably. A predictably chromed-up Maelstrom, who looked at us with piercing, beady eyes when we entered. And a lanky, well-built Asian dude, tatted from knuckles to neck with intricate, coloured designs. Respect to the guy for sitting under the needle for so long. Not so much to the Maelstrom, even though I knew his surgeries had probably hurt more. Tats were one thing - cutting out the front of your face for chrome was another. </p><p> </p><p>"V, Johnny. Just in time for another rundown of the plan." Rogue greeted without turning around, merely giving us a brief look over her shoulder before focusing solely on the map, hands on hips. She jerked a thumb at the Maelstrom first, "Clank." </p><p> </p><p>"Pleasure, Miss V." <em> Clank </em>said in an accent that was distinctly not-local to NC. British, maybe? But I didn't know enough about geography to place it, so I betted Londoner and left it at that. He looked super rough and tumble, proudly wearing a gruesome-looking scar down the side of his shaved skull, where it disappeared under the chrome at the back of his neck. "You too, Mister Silverhand." </p><p> </p><p>My first instinct was to take the piss and say something like <em> can't say the same </em>, but Rogue beat either of us to the punch in replying. </p><p> </p><p>"And that's Muto Hajime." she pointed to the other guy. This time, Johnny made sure he got a comment in; he looked as if his brain had tried to make a connection and he spoke before he thought about it. </p><p> </p><p>Which was true. "Sounds like that game Ker and I used to play back in the day on our phones. God, what was it called?" Johnny put his fingers thoughtfully to his beard, and then he snapped them, "Neko Atsume!"</p><p> </p><p>"That sounds <em> nothing </em>like my name." said Muto firmly in a low, grumbly voice. His accent was as Night Citian as mine. "Why the fuck would you say that?" </p><p> </p><p>"You mean you don't wanna be compared to a game about collecting tiny, digital cats that cause you sufferin' and loss based on their whims, decided upon in their tiny, digital cat brains?" </p><p> </p><p>"That sounded like a lot of pent-up emotion right there, Johnny," I said in a tone far too soft to be serious, and firmly placed a hand on his arm soothingly, "I'm sorry about your tiny, digital cats." </p><p> </p><p>He shrugged. "Oh, it's nothin'. Just had more rarer ones than Ker when I died, no big deal." </p><p> </p><p>"Can we get to business?" Rogue said firmly, and with an internal groan I dropped my smile. I would've preferred to talk to Johnny about his tiny, digital cats all day. That wasn't why he liked Nibbles so much, was it? </p><p> </p><p>"So, what's happenin'?" he asked, stepping up to the table in the middle, where more sheets and maps covered the edges. Rogue turned, tapped twice on the surface and it woke up like a screen. </p><p> </p><p>"Jack in, and I'll show you." </p><p> </p><p>I tugged the cable outta my wrist with ease. Johnny had a bit more difficulty, finding it snagged on something probably jammed in the wrong spot in that forearm of metal and wires that still needed sorting. Eventually it came free, and we both found ports on the table to jack into. </p><p> </p><p>"Basic rundown," Rogue began, and the screen came to life as she also jacked in. From the blank looks on Muto and Clank's faces, they couldn't see what we saw on the screen - neither did they need to. I knew they'd been briefed already or them and their gangers wouldn't be here. "Arasaka are pulling outta Night City, and we're gonna stop them." </p><p> </p><p>"Where?" Johnny asked quickly, to an eye roll of both of us. </p><p> </p><p>"Patience is a virtue, Johnny." Rogue sighed, before the screen moved; satellite footage of NC flew by beneath us, until that highway on the edge of Santo Domingo came into view. The southern one that I had never really used, not the one leading east into the Badlands that I'd taken often to visit the Aldecaldos Camp. "A convoy will be trying to leave through this route at twenty-two hundred tonight." </p><p> </p><p>"Really gets me worked up when you do all that military talk, Rogue," Johnny said with a cheeky smirk.</p><p> </p><p>"Shut the fuck up." she said swiftly and harshly, before moving on with the plan, "The convoy consists of three armoured vehicles and three trucks, hauling their tech, their servers, data, we're not entirely certain what's in them." </p><p> </p><p>"So you'll be wantin' what's in them, ideally?" I guessed. Rogue shrugged. </p><p> </p><p>"Don't blow the cargo until you've checked what's in them." she dismissed, but looked at me with a super serious gaze, "It's up to V's judgement, boys, got it? She knows a thing or two about Arasaka. On her word you either collect or destroy." </p><p> </p><p>"Sure thing, boss." Clank gave a little, chipper salute, and Muto nodded. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue kept her eyes on me for a long minute. This was a fucking test and we both knew it. I didn't know shit about what would be useful to Arasaka, only my best guess. If I chose wrong and blew something useful, not only would my lovely working-relationship with Rogue take a hit, but so would my rep. I could see it now: Arasaka's angel of death, on a rage-filled rampage to destroy everything with their logo printed on it. </p><p> </p><p>"Plan deets, hit me." I suggested instead, and Rogue finally broke her stare. </p><p> </p><p>"You have both Claws and Maelstrom to work with here," Rogue began, and the satellite footage zoomed in on the stretch of a road through the Jackson Plains. There were a dozen dots on the map of different colours, like fucking chess pieces in her little game. She collected them together, keeping the tiny turquoise dots on one side of the road, and the red ones on the other. "Clank assures me Maelstrom have plenty of tools to get this convoy off its wheels." </p><p> </p><p>"We sure do." he said with a grin, and jumped to his feet before joining us at the table, jacking in. "Check out these bad boys - military fuckin' grade stingers, able to tear through a foot of rubber." </p><p> </p><p>Somehow I didn't believe <em> that </em>, but I nodded appreciatively as an image of them showed up on screen. They sure were fierce: long, violent-looking spikes that would definitely stop any road vehicle in its tracks. </p><p> </p><p>"Maelstrom will lay them when everyone is in position, ten minutes before the convoy rolls in," Rogue continued, sliding away the image and drawing a trio of lines across the road instead. "Both gangs will approach in groups over the hour, and <em> only </em>gather up when the time's right. We can't have Arasaka catching wind of what's going down.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm reliably informed that they're packing, hence why I've called in a few favours to have the support of two gangs rather than one," she said, "Each armoured vehicle holds six soldiers, armed and armoured. That's not counting the mounted machine guns on top of each, and the driver of each truck and his bud also being armed and armoured." </p><p> </p><p>"Sounds like it's gonna be quite the firefight." Johnny mulled, though he was smiling with a devious look in his eye. We hadn't had a good long fight in a while, the sort where you work up a sweat and your heart pounds so hard for so long in your chest that it physically hurts; where your muscles ache but your adrenaline keeps you on your feet. </p><p> </p><p>"It'll definitely be a rough one. But even if we don't physically get anything out of it," Rogue looks up at the two of us seriously, "It'll be a blow to Arasaka. There'll probably be more in the coming weeks, it seems like they're trying to reduce their numbers." </p><p> </p><p>"Let 'em try to run. Motherfuckin' cowards. NC'll chew 'em up and spit 'em out." </p><p> </p><p>"I could drink to that one, Mister Silverhand!" Clank snorted a laugh, but it came out as a snicker that broke on his metallic throat implant. "Oh, while we're here! Can I get your autograph?" </p><p> </p><p>Johnny's shit-eating smirk jumped into place <em> immediately </em> . He whipped out a marker with a twirl like he'd had it readied just for an occasion like this, and scribbled <em> Silverhand </em> on the metal plate on Clank's shoulder blade. </p><p> </p><p>"Any questions?" Rogue asked as Johnny pocketed the marker again. </p><p> </p><p>"None here." Johnny said with a shrug. I wanted to be a pain in the ass and ask something, maybe a few things, but I couldn't think of any. As annoying as it was, Rogue had done a pretty perfect job explaining the job. Oh well, I had plenty of time to think of things to ask before we headed out. </p><p> </p><p>"None from me. Though if you don't mind, I'll be headin' out first to get some gear." </p><p> </p><p>If we were doing a job this big, I needed my stuff. My rifle, Overwatch - the trusty sniper Panam had given me. My bag with tools, supplies. And my belt, the one I'd stolen shamelessly from Johnny after he'd used it that night at the party. It was a good plan, having everything on hand - or waist, I guess. Point was, it was goddamn useful, and it was also now mine. </p><p> </p><p>"That's fine." Rogue jacked out, so I did the same. "Clank, Muto, go check over your guys. I need a minute with V and Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>Muto seemed reluctant to be ordered around. Clank too, to some extent, and grumbled under his breath when he got up out of the seat he'd just gotten comfy in again, barging his way through past Muto before he could get out the doorway. They hadn't spoken to each other once, I noticed. I was getting bad vibes from their tenseness as they left the room. When they were gone, I turned to Rogue expectantly. </p><p> </p><p>"I heard you two are in Maelstrom's bad books." she said with a huff of a sigh, folding her arms. I side-eyed Johnny as he did the same. "Just be glad Clank and his guys are from a seperate… Division, if you can call it that." </p><p> </p><p>"We only took back what they'd stolen." I shrugged dismissively.</p><p> </p><p>"And blew up one of their cars and killed four of their guys." Rogue corrected dryly. </p><p> </p><p>"You <em> what </em>?" Johnny turned on me with a grin. "Shit, I missed out." </p><p> </p><p>"Point is-" she said abruptly before I could open my mouth, "Just play nice, don't bring it up. One more thing, too."</p><p> </p><p>We both looked at her attentively, despite feeling like children who'd just gotten a scolding for being nasty to kids down the street. </p><p> </p><p>"You two are the only ones from After I'm sending on this job." she said seriously, "So I want you to keep an eye on the gangs, make sure they're playing nice. One of you will ride with Maelstrom, one with Claws. Got it?" </p><p> </p><p>"No way," Johnny refused immediately, "We'll ride on our own." </p><p> </p><p>"This isn't negotiable, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>"Rogue-"</p><p> </p><p>"No, she's right." I interjected before he could get too heated. "We should keep an eye on them. There's tensions between them after all. Better to babysit than resolve a gang war." </p><p> </p><p>Johnnt pinned me in my spot with that serious, <em> what the fuck V? </em>look in his eyes. While I wasn't exactly keen, I understood why Rogue wanted her only eyes and ears on his job monitoring the situation from both sides. And I understood Johnny too - it had been what felt like forever and a day since we split up for anything. </p><p> </p><p>"Decide between yourselves who's goin' with who. I'll add your holos to the group so you'll be in on the call when it starts." Rogue marched past us, heading for the door, "First cars leave at twenty-one hundred." </p><p> </p><p>When she left with the quiet <em> swoosh </em> of the door sliding shut behind her, Johnny folded his arms and perched against the table's edge. He was sulking, hard. Then, suddenly, before I even managed to open my mouth, he spoke up. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm goin' with Maelstrom." he decided, and I blinked at him. "I was in the car that night, there's no way they saw my face. You though? Not takin' the risk." </p><p> </p><p>"You don't gotta protect me, Johnny." I grumbled, "I can go with Maelstrom. I'm sure the Claws'll be just as bad company anyhow." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> I'm </em> goin' with Maelstrom."</p><p> </p><p>"Johnny-"</p><p> </p><p>"Just shut up and listen to me, V. We both know you could kick my ass and I'd probably thank you - point is, I'm not lettin' you get into their ride. Let me take this one." </p><p> </p><p>I scrutinised him, staring at him long enough any other person would squirm. But he simply stood there and stared back, holding my gaze with ease - he wasn't gonna budge. </p><p> </p><p>"Fine." I huffed. "It's only for the ride, anyway. We'll stick together when we attack the convoy." </p><p> </p><p>"That's my girl." he tapped at my chin, and in turn I batted away his hand. "Gimme a good luck kiss? That way nothin'll go wrong."</p><p> </p><p>"You don't need luck." </p><p> </p><p>But I did it anyway. Fuck knows when the day'd come where I somehow resisted the urge to give in when he asked so nicely. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Daisy is 100% a reference to the Beagle from John Wick! I'm a little obsessed with John Wick as of late, trying so hard to resist the urge to start writing a John Wick fic as well because I don't know if I have the time for that lmaooo</p><p>I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please consider commenting with your thoughts &lt;3</p><p>As always, I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr if you need someone to scream with about Cyberpunk!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Muto and Clank</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heads up! This hasn't been edited yet, because I wanted to get it out to you guys when it was finished! I'll iron out any mistakes later today! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>APRIL 11th, 2078 / JOHNNY</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Santo Domingo, Jackson Plains … 9:21PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>God, it fucking stank. I couldn't normally say anything, given my history of sitting in untidy dressing rooms with sweat and some gross smoke filling the air. But <em> this </em>was a new fucking level. The Maelstrom van reeked of blood and guts, sweat and cheap Smash. If I'd let V get in here, she would've vomited all over the chrome on the back of the driver's head. Couldn't drive for shit either; I spent the whole ride keeping myself steady by clamping the Hand to the bar overhead. </p><p> </p><p>Only thing that kept me in this fucking thing and not jumping out even while it was speeding down the highway was the glimpse of the sleek car riding along with us. Who fucking knows what V was having to put up with in that gaudy thing. Tyger Claws were as pose-y as Valentinos; flashy, custom-paint jobs, dramatic dragon tattoos, gating outsiders by speaking only Japanese between themselves. I wondered if they'd even so much as tried to talk to V, or if she'd gotten blessed silence. I wasn't having as much luck. This Maelstrom group were rowdy, and led by Clank they'd sing along to some new-age bullshit I'd never heard of and didn't wanna ever hear again on the radio. When he'd offered to put on some Samurai instead, I don't think I'd ever said no to hearing my own voice so fast in my life. I didn't need to hear his metallic clang of a voice butchering my music. </p><p> </p><p>"So, Mister Silverhand," began Clank as their last one-time-wonder faded out, "Whatcha been up to these last, what, fifty years? Sixty? You lookin' good for your age." </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks." I said dryly, staring out the window. Street lights were becoming few, the road getting dark. Just a little while longer and I'd be able to get out of this poor excuse of a ride and we'd be at the meet point. "Not done much, bein' dead 'n all." I decided to say, vaguely. </p><p> </p><p>"Aha, I get it. In hidin', out of view of paparazzi after that stunt in 2023, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>"Sure." </p><p> </p><p>"For a man who's said to like tootin' his own horn, you really don't talk much, do ya?" </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh." </p><p> </p><p>Fuck Rogue. Couldn't believe I was stuck having this guy ask me questions like some shitty early-morning tv interviewer. Should've just ignored her and brought Shit-heap round, threw V over my shoulder and took her with me if she tried to argue. <em> Rogue's right </em>, she'd complain, and for once I'd be shocked it was her and not me on Rogue's side. Still, she'd probably beat the shit out of me when I put her back on her feet. Maybe even give me a good kick to the gut and a few punches to the back while she was up there, just for good measure. </p><p> </p><p>Tiny woman, big voice. Just how I liked it. </p><p> </p><p>"What's the deal with you and that Miss V then?" he prodded, and I rubbed at my eyes with my hand. Fucking predictable. He carried on yapping his trap, though. "I mean, sure, she's fit, but you're Johnny fuckin' Silverhand. Why're ya fuckin' just one girl?" </p><p> </p><p>"Last I checked, that's none of your biz." I sighed, "Do yourself a fuckin' favour and treat V like you would your goddamn boss, choom. Or she'll chew you up and spit you out with your eyes missin'." </p><p> </p><p>"Hot." </p><p> </p><p>How much would it have hurt to smash my head through the window, rather than listen to this gonk? </p><p> </p><p>… </p><p>
  <b>APRIL 11th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Santo Domingo, Jackson Plains … 9:24PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>"So, uh." I began, breaking the awkward silence. "What are your guys' names?" </p><p> </p><p>"Not important." snapped Muto, and my brows jumped up to my fucking hairline. </p><p> </p><p>"Damn, just makin' convo, my guy. Come on," I elbowed the guy who got the unfortunate middle seat in back next to me, "What's your name?" </p><p> </p><p>"He doesn't speak English." Muto said immediately, keeping his eyes on the road, "And he doesn't have a translator implant." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, that's rough. Can't imagine gettin' round NC without one of those nowadays." </p><p> </p><p>No one in that car of five people responded to me. I sighed, and dropped my forehead against the glass of the window on my left with a soft <em> thumk </em>. Fucking Rogue. This was so goddamn lame, not to mention uncomfortable as all hell. I didn't care if she wanted to be smart and monitor the situation, and I didn't care if I'd agreed. I'd rather take Johnny's lame convos any day of the week over this. I didn't intimidate easy, but being stuck in a car with four Claws was fucking weird, especially being pressed thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder with one. Didn't like being mercy to wherever they decided to take me, neither. Just hoped they'd keep their word to Rogue. </p><p> </p><p>She was taking a huge fucking gamble, here. Me and Johnny were tough, and together we could take down any motherfuckers who were dumb enough to try. But apart? If we got overwhelmed, we'd go down like any other poor gonk. Maelstrom and Claws could very easily decide they'd prefer to take cash off corps and take both of us out there and then, and what would that leave Rogue with? No gang support, and not even the legend Johnny Silverhand or Arasaka's angel of death. She'd have taken a risk by announcing her plans to Night City and then throwing us out to the wolves first chance she got. </p><p> </p><p>Without us, she was fucked. </p><p> </p><p>Thank fuck my holo started ringing. Johnny had changed it one morning while I was still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, so it was obvious, immediately, that it was mine thanks to <em> Chippin' In </em>started blaring in my pocket. I'd teased him and said Kerry's version was better. He'd been so furious he was slowly trying to convince me his was the superior song. </p><p> </p><p>At the same time, Muto's started to buzz. Lame, no tune. </p><p> </p><p>We both picked up. Group calls weren't my thing, but fuck if I was gonna refuse having Johnny's voice in my ear while surrounded by these boring fucks. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Okay, let's check we're all online </em> ," I heard Rogue say, and up in the top left of my optics overlay, feeds were starting to pop in of their faces. Saw Rogue first, safe and bundled up in After. " <em> Clank </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Here, Your Majesty </em>." he said, chipperly. Got his image over top, and was swiftly replaced by Rogue when she spoke up again. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Johnny </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Wish I wasn't, but here I fuckin' am </em>." he grumbled, but his feed was just a simple little ? thanks to his ancient fucking cyberware. </p><p> </p><p>"Easy, tiger, play nice." I teased, trying not to show how overwhelmed with relief I was to hear his voice in this cramped up car. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> V's here, then </em> ." Rogue sounded, and looked unimpressed I'd interrupted her roll call. " <em> Muto </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>"Online." he responded, all business. The holo did its job and muted his voice thanks to his proximity irl. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Great </em> ." she said but didn't sound very happy about it, " <em> Sending the next two cars your way. Keep this holo call on standby until then </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> You got it, boss </em>." affirmed Clank, before there was a soft beep as his end went dead - for the time being. Another from Rogue, and then a third from Muto. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, so since we're still on this call alone, Johnny," I started, enjoying the little twitch from Muto in front of me, "You wanna talk dirty?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Hell fuckin' yes. So when we get back tonight, I'm gonna-"  </em></p><p> </p><p>A sharp beep. "<em> Shut the fuck up and go on standby. </em>" scolded Rogue, and I sighed. </p><p> </p><p>"How did you even know if you were on standby?" I grumbled. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> I know Johnny. And apparently you're just as predictable </em>." </p><p> </p><p>The urge to mimic what she'd said in a high-pitched voice was so strong I had to go on standby immediately to avoid it. I would've liked to keep talking to Johnny, even about mundane things - just to hear his voice and remind me that this fucking car journey will end eventually. </p><p> </p><p>And when it did, when the car slowed and pulled off the road into the bumpy, dusty ground beside, I breathed in relief. The car doors clicked open and I clambered out immediately, giving space for the poor guy stuck in middle to get out and stretch his legs. Muto opened the trunk and I grabbed my gear out before the others could get theirs, not trusting them to not be bad little kleptos. Across the road, just like Rogue's little map plan, the first Maelstrom car was parked off road, in the gloom of a broad stretch between street lights. We'd end up with five vehicles on each side, and thankfully from a glance, it looked like there'd be enough space here to take advantage of the dark, and hide them properly.</p><p> </p><p>Muto and I crossed the dead road, met Clank and Johnny in the middle. I tossed him the smoke case he probably hadn't even realised I'd swiped yet, and he caught it with expert ease between those metal fingers of his. Still needed to take him to see Vik to finally get that thing removed and remodeled. Would we ever have enough downtime for us to just do normal people things while we waited? I wouldn't risk bringing him on jobs if he was a hand down. </p><p> </p><p>"What now?" I asked, as Johnny came up to offer me a smoke and a light. I took it, and subtly squeezed his hand in mine as he brought the lighter up to my face. He didn't need to say or do anything - just that one little touch was enough to convince me things were all good. </p><p> </p><p>"Now we wait for the rest of the squad," Clank said, lounging on the end of the barrier between the left and right sides of the road. "When the next lot show, we'll start work on the stingers." </p><p> </p><p>I glanced at the time in the corner of my overlay. So we had about half an hour to do absolutely nothing, excellent. I glanced around the scenery, noticed one of those overheard roadsign platforms not too far back from where we'd parked. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, wanna help me set up my perch?" I asked, knowing full well the answer was <em> fuck yes </em> , <em> get me away from these freaks.  </em></p><p> </p><p>"Sure." he said, more casually and less-provoking than I'd imagined, "Whatcha got in mind?" </p><p> </p><p>We found an access ladder not far back, though it was a bit outta my reach. Johnny gave me a boost - got all handsy first behind the pillar, and I took advantage of the distraction if but for a few minutes. It was always hard to be the smart one and back off just when it was getting good, but I reluctantly broke away from his kiss and requested again, politely, that he help me up. </p><p> </p><p>"Kill-joy." he grumbled, but he had that stupid little smirk on his face. "Come on, gimme your foot." </p><p> </p><p>I stepped into his cupped hands, and held onto his shoulder as he straightened up. From there I was able to put my other foot up on his shoulder and clamber up, getting a decent grip on the ladder and beginning up the climb. I heard a beep through my holo. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> What's the view like </em>?" Johnny asked from below, and I took a sec to admire it. </p><p> </p><p>"Not too bad. Not great, either." I rehauled the strap of Overwatch over my shoulder and took some careful steps down the grated floor beneath me. I'd been on enough of these to know they weren't usually taken decent care of, and I'd fallen through too many in my time not to be careful where I placed my feet. I took it upon myself to use the butt end of the rifle to smash out the few remaining lightbulbs illuminating the signs behind me. I felt bad for innocent drivers for about five seconds, before the security in knowing I wouldn't be seen took over. </p><p> </p><p>Out of my bag I produced a stabilising stand for the rifle, and clicked it in place. It settled perfectly over the bottom metal panel in the railing, in between the bars. I tested it, tilting this way and that, and had perfect maneuverability. This almost felt like <em> too </em>great a spot. Maybe I'll get fucked somehow by impossible circumstances, because that always happened to me when things felt too good to be true. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> You all set, or want me to come keep you company </em>?" Johnny asked. We probably only had a few more sentences out of our allotted word count before Rogue suspected we were abusing her holo call and came to yell at us again. </p><p> </p><p>"Come up if ya can climb that on your own." I snorted, and not two minutes later, I heard his confident gait on the grates beside me. I put my holo on standby after hearing the beep of his own. He sank down beside me with a heavy sigh, leaning back against the sign. I rooted in my bag and whipped out a bag of chips. "Want one?" I asked, and he wordlessly dipped his hand into the bag, coming out with a lot more than one. </p><p> </p><p>Jokes on him, they'd mostly gotten crushed by my ammo cases. He was making a fucking mess. </p><p> </p><p>"You need to shave." I said absently, tugging on the hair at his jaw. "It's gettin' too long." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck you, what if I wanna grow a long beard?" he smacked my hand away without any real venom, and idly rubbed his fingers where I'd touched. I was right and he knew it. "I think I'll be sexy Gandalf." he decided. </p><p> </p><p>I opened my mouth but before the question could even come out, he held up a hand. </p><p> </p><p>"Gotta put some time aside soon for a movie marathon." he said as if that was all the explanation that was needed. </p><p> </p><p>"Put time aside?" I snorted, "Johnny, it's just a movie. How long could it be?" </p><p> </p><p>He just silently stared at me. When I shrugged, he simply shook his head and sighed. </p><p> </p><p>"You're right, though," he returned back to our original topic, "Not shavin' though; I look baby-faced if I'm clean-shaven. And I know you like my beard." he added with a wink. </p><p> </p><p>He unfolded his legs, stretching them out alongside me and crossed one foot over the other. I resisted the urge to tease him and run my hands up them; he had such long legs, and compared to me, it made him tower like a fucking giant. A part of me had always wished I'd been taller - I always looked easily intimidated, was always laughed at for being Jackie's tiny choom. But now I didn't mind it so much. It was a nice juxtaposition, and the last thing anyone expected in Johnny Silverhand's shadow was a tiny woman with a lot of anger. Also a sniper rifle. </p><p> </p><p>"Reckon Daisy's okay?" I asked, staring out at our view. Night City stood at the other end of this same highway, shining like a goddamn beacon in the middle of this wasteland. Part of me had always wondered what else there was to be seen outside of NC. It was an entire world all on its own, and I often forgot that outside of it, there war an entire planet to see. Maybe one day I'd visit other countries, become a tourist and see the wonders of the world. Night City was fucked, and I was sure the rest of the world was too. But I think I'd still enjoy the adventure all the same. </p><p> </p><p>"Meh, she'll be fine." Johnny said dismissively, "I filled her bowl with kibble before we left." </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny! She's gonna get fat." </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, I didn't know how long we were gonna be out. I didn't wanna miss her midnight snack." </p><p> </p><p>"<em>Midnight</em> <em>snack</em>?" I echoed in horror. He looked at me briefly, then immediately looked away like a kid caught doing something he shouldn't have. </p><p> </p><p>"I get up in the middle of the night 'cuz I'm hungry. She whines at me if I don't give her somethin' too." </p><p> </p><p>Who knew the secret to manipulating a man like Johnny Silverhand was actual puppy dog eyes? </p><p> </p><p>"Wait, so…" I looked at him, fighting back my laughter, "That's where all the chips and the sweets went." </p><p> </p><p>"Straight down my gizzard, that's where." he confirmed, with no hesitation and no remorse. "You joke about me being a heavy sleeper, but the sort of shit I've pulled off while you just kept snorin'? I should get an award." </p><p> </p><p>I noticed a flash of movement. Twisting to lay flat on my tummy, I peered down the scope of my rifle. More Maelstrom followed by another Claws car. Bleh. Suddenly I didn't even wanna put some holes in Arasaka fools; the mention of Daisy made me wanna go home and cuddle up with her on the bed. Maybe let Johnny join the pile if he went out and bought replacements for all the snacks he'd solo-devoured. </p><p> </p><p>Since when had I ever wanted <em> out </em>of a fight? </p><p> </p><p>"So, what's your plan?" I asked, rolling over onto my back to look over at his face. He apparently couldn't resist the the thing I'd managed to ignore, and placed his palm flush over my calf. But it wasn't really even intentional; he wasn't smirking, he wasn't trying to tease me. It was like he'd just done it by default, without thinking about it. The unexpected gentleness in a gesture that familiar had my heart twisting up in my chest for a second, before I forced myself not to think about it all too deeply. </p><p> </p><p>"Gonna go down there when the convoy's on its way," he said, "I've got a good shot but not good enough from here. Besides, leadin' the charge, first man on the field? All that sounds like the beginnin's of a good song." </p><p> </p><p>I rolled my eyes, and sat up. I inched closer, and his hand moved up my leg with every bit of the gap I closed, like he didn't wanna part his grip from me. </p><p> </p><p>"Just make it into a song, alright?" I asked, and fisted his t-shirt in my fingers. "Make yourself sound righteous, brave, whatever. Just make sure the song ends with you winnin', 'kay?" </p><p> </p><p>"'Kay." Johnny agreed without argument. I pulled on his shirt, but it wasn't like I needed to - he came down to kiss me of his own accord. It wasn't like our usual ones; it wasn't hasty or desperate, it wasn't a prelude to something more. Just a single, lasting promise that he'd take my words to heart. "And you, you stay up here." he said, poking a finger against my chest. "You do your best work where gonks can't touch you." </p><p> </p><p>I scoffed. "I can handle myself in close quarters, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>"I know you can. Doesn't mean you should have to." his finger went up from my chest, to tip my chin upward to look at him. "Leave the scrappin' in the dirt to me, okay? You stay up here in your nest, and I'll come get you when it's safe." </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny…" </p><p> </p><p>I wanted to complain. Insist he didn't need to be so pushy on it, yet I knew he was right. I could handle myself in a fight, sure, but I always walked away with broken bones or new bloody wounds. I don't know where he learned to take on gonks in hand to hand, but he was good at it; it was actually sorta mouth-watering to watch. It also helped that the protectiveness he'd started showing more often lately warmed my heart. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny Silverhand, caring about something other than himself and his ax? Never! </p><p> </p><p>"Okay but no stupid heroics." it was my turn to poke him in the chest. He caught ahold of it, and squeezed it in warning not to go poking him again. That's what that squeeze meant, right? </p><p> </p><p>"Stupid heroics? Me?" his lips twitched upward. "Nah. Not me." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny stayed with me while the rest of the Maelstrom and Claws vehicles rolled in. The quiet was broken up with the metal chaos as they set up the stringers across the road, but I tried to ignore it; head resting on Johnny's thigh, I stared up at the sky. This far outta the city, you could actually see stars. I almost fell asleep and when Johnny suddenly started beneath me, it jolted me violently back into reality. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Show time, </em>" said Clank into the holo call. I was reluctant to let Johnny go; really, there was no harm in him staying up here with me. Except of course him losing out on his glory, but this was the first time we'd had a proper fight and his arm was still janky. A little stray thought wriggled into my head and wouldn't leave. What if that motor glitch happened in the middle of a fight? What if he was one arm down against how many armoured Arasaka goons? How would Johnny fight while handicapped? </p><p> </p><p>I grabbed hold of that janky metal hand of his, pulling him to a stop. He turned back to me with a quirked brow, and I don't think he was expecting me to kiss him. "Be careful," I said, and checked quickly that both our holos were still on standby. When they were, I still lowered my voice, "And don't let your guard down around those gangers, okay? I don't trust 'em." </p><p> </p><p>"And you get mad at me for lecturing you." Johnny huffed, but it was in amusement more than anything. "You worry about keepin' your aim straight." </p><p> </p><p>"Don't need to." </p><p> </p><p>"Then you don't gotta worry about me." </p><p> </p><p>He squeezed my fingers and then let me go. I huffed, and decided that since there was no changing our situation, I'd pull my goddamn head out of my ass and focus. With a little grunt I settled down again, and peered down my sights. Sure enough, through the night vision scope, I spied the convoy's approach. A truck, followed by an armored car, in a clean line. Rogue had said there were four vehicles guarding the three trucks on our way; finally settling my eyes on them myself had my stomach churning. </p><p> </p><p>I turned my holo off standby. It was just in time to hear Rogue ask, "<em> V and Johnny, where are they? Tell them to get their holos online </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> They were just finishin' up a private moment, Milady </em>." answered Clank, and I clicked my tongue. </p><p> </p><p>"He was helping me set up my spot," I corrected, "He's on his way down. Stay outta his way, Clank." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Wouldn't dream of puttin' meself between Silverhand and Arasaka, darlin'."  </em></p><p> </p><p>"<em> Muto, how are the Claws </em>?" Rogue checked. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> In position </em> ," he said, and threw in a snide, " <em> And ready to collect a higher kill count </em>." as an afterthought. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Nah, my friend, that'll be our victory tonight. You Claws better watch out </em>." Clank's voice was full of chipper glee, but any of us could tell Maelstrom didn't take threats lightly, least of all the threat of being outdone by people like Tyger Claws. </p><p> </p><p>"Got eyes on the convoy." I reported, purposefully shifting topics. I stretched my trigger finger, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "I'm takin' out the driver the second those wheels so much as roll over those stingers." </p><p> </p><p>There was another little beep; Johnny coming online. For a second, I thought my cyberware had pulled off a miracle. But the image I thought I saw in the holo call through his feed was in my head - literally. A split second of a dark highway under his feet, spying the beady red eyes of the Maelstrom hidden behind their cars not far off. And then it was gone. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> You gonna pop the cork on this fight, V </em>?" asked Johnny, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Was too busy focusing staring down my scope with only the one anyhow. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah," I whispered, trying hard not to disrupt my breathing. "Okay, get ready, boys. Firin'." </p><p> </p><p>That was the only warning they got before I pulled on the trigger. The poor gonk driving that first truck didn't get the same. </p><p> </p><p>The bullet whizzed through the air and I heard a distant shattering of glass. Then, abruptly, the truck started veering off, before its tires snagged on the stingers. It dramatically crashed into the barrier in between the lanes, and the second it came to a stop, bullets started hailing down on it from the gangs' cars. I was too busy to be focusing on that though; quickly, I pulled on the rifle to change its angle, and fired off more shots at the other trucks while they were scrambled, taken off guard. My second shot missed, but smashed the windscreen of the second truck. The third hit home, taking out the passenger of the cab, and then I sent out a fourth that got the driver. Having taken down two out of the three, I turned my energies into backing up the gangers and Johnny below. </p><p> </p><p>One of the vehicles at the back had noticed what was going on - it took a sharp turn off-road, and was rained on by fire by Maelstrom. I hauled the rifle up into my hands, jumping to my feet and turning after the van's path. Gasping in a sharp breath, I pulled the trigger. Lucky shot, really, I hadn't expected to hit a target moving so fast across my field of view. The front right tire popped, and it went skidding back across the road behind us. Not ideal, given the circumstances. </p><p> </p><p>"Watch your backs." I called, squeezing through between the signs to get to the behind of the platform, "Van skidded behind us. I'll try to take out some but I can't stop 'em all!" </p><p> </p><p>Muto barked an order in Japanese, one that my translator decided was too fast to catch. A few Claws broke off from the pack to pounce on the Van, just as the back doors opened. Three Arasaka goons leapt out, and one immediately collapsed back in as my bullet hit him square in the chest. The other two made it out - "Fuck!" I snapped when I realised I'd lost count of my bullets already, and had to reload. By the time I was ready again and peering down my sights again, one of the Claws were down, but they kept pushing on the van. Carefully, I leveled my breath, and shot again. It clanked uselessly into the open back door of the van. </p><p> </p><p><em> "Fuckin' watch it, Ratchet!" </em> I heard Johnny snap through my holo and my heart leapt in my chest. Was Clank trying to shoot at <em> him </em>? My mind jumped to the worst conclusion first. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Sorry, Silverhand, sir! 'Lil trigger happy </em> ." came Clank's response, " <em> Also my name is Clank." </em>he added after. </p><p> </p><p><em> "Exactly! You fuckin' zoomers don't get any of my funniest jokes. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>I tried to focus on the task at hand. The driver of the van tried to get out - he'd stayed inside so far, afraid to try it through the driver's side. He should've listened to his gut. My bullet got him in the shoulder just as a Claw's bullet got his middle. The three gangers left would be able to take care of the stragglers easy now, and just on time too. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny's voice came through my holo: "<em> V, gonna need some cover, baby!"  </em></p><p> </p><p>Alert, I jumped up, and squeezed through the gap again back to face the city in the distance. Using my optics, I scanned the shit-fest it had turned into while I was looking away; one of the armoured cars belonging to the convoy was on its side beside the first crashed truck, and the Arasaka goons that had survived the collision were using it as cover. In fact, with how the trucks had come to a stand still, they had a pretty good defensible point, not unlike the lines of cars and vans Maelstrom and Claws had. While they were protected by their trucks, they couldn't get any shots off. And neither could our side, because of the fucking trucks. </p><p> </p><p>An impasse. My <em> favourite </em>. </p><p> </p><p>My optics pinpointed Johnny for me. He was beside Clank, back pinned to the Maelstrom van closest to the middle of the road. He was going to lead the fucking charge just like he said he was gonna. </p><p> </p><p>"Watch that ass of yours." I reminded, before taking a deep breath. The two Arasaka soldiers behind the car, the ones who could actually take shots, were my targets. Johnny was already moving, dipping out from behind his cover. Fucking gonk trusted my ability too much. If I'd been a bit slower, one of them could've shot him. It was a good thing then that both of them had a bullet each of mine through their brains. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> V, what's happening? Report. </em>" came Rogue's command. I was busy watching over Johnny as he rounded the car, and by the time he reached the trucks, Maelstrom gangers followed him across. </p><p> </p><p>I gave Rogue a quick rundown, keeping my sights trained on the ground a few steps in front of Johnny. Unfortunately he disappeared around the back of a truck, and I had to listen helplessly to the gunfire and chaos. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Lads, go 'n check round back now, will ya?" </em> came Clank's order to his group, " <em> Silverhand and me are gonna check round 'ere </em>." </p><p> </p><p>Motherfucker. I hauled my bag strap across my chest and flung Overwatch over my shoulder, racing down the platform and scrambling down the ladder. As I took off across the road to the heap of Arasaka-branded trucks and cars, I whipped my handgun out of my holster. I didn't fucking trust Clank, not for one second. Especially not when he was letting Johnny take the lead, and not when Johnny was letting it happen. </p><p> </p><p>An abrupt gunshot sounded, and it wasn't Johnny's Malorian. It was Clank's cheapo Militech assault rifle.</p><p> </p><p>I rounded the last trucks in time for my holo to do its job in defeating Johnny thanks to his proximity. He yelled in pain, dropping to his knees - back of his leg, his calf. Bullet lodged in his flesh. </p><p> </p><p>"Drop the fuckin' gun, Clank!" I ordered, pressing the barrel of my handgun to the back of his head. He froze up. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> V, what the fuck's happening </em>?" Rogue demanded, as I resisted every urge to pull the trigger. </p><p> </p><p>"Clank just fuckin' shot Johnny! Motherfucker tried to make it look like Arasaka got the jump, but he hasn't got enough brain cells to choose anywhere but in his goddamn back." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Johnny? Johnny, respond, goddamn- </em>" </p><p> </p><p>The <em> it </em>I knew that was coming from Rogue's end was deafened by the loud bang of a gun. Wasn't me - Clank doubled over with a scream, collapsing to the ground at my feet. Not far from me, Johnny was doing a shitty job at keeping pressure on the bleeding wound on his leg; his focus had been keeping his aim steady enough to get Clank's leg and not mine.</p><p> </p><p>"Motherfucker. I should kill you right fuckin' now." he spat. He tried to hobble to his feet but collapsed with a groan, and I managed to restrain myself long enough to throw Clank's weapons out of reach. </p><p> </p><p>"Stay still, stop fidgeting," I insisted, rushing over. Fuck, that was a lot of blood. His whole calf was soaked in it, sticky and wet. Still warm. "Shit. Fuckin' fuck, I knew we couldn't trust them." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Is he okay </em> ?" asked Rogue, " <em> Muto, grab that motherfucker and bring him back to me at After. Idiot'll see what it means to disobey me </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"I'm alive, not like you fuckin' care." snapped Johnny. I dropped Overwatch at my side and and dug around in my pack - there were first aid supplies in here somewhere. Where the fuck were they? Buried at the bottom? Goddammit. </p><p> </p><p>"I gotta get you to a ripperdoc." I murmured, though it was so low I wouldn't have been surprised if no one heard me. Finally I found what I'd been looking for, and tried my fucking hardest to keep my head while I bound his leg as tightly as I could to stem the bleeding some. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Check the cargo, V- </em>" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Fuck </em>your cargo!" </p><p> </p><p>I heard some approaching footsteps. I looked up over my shoulder to see Muto approaching, flanked by a handful of Claws. He barked an order and two of them grasped Clank by his arms, hauling him after them. </p><p> </p><p>"Go, do as she says." Muto said to me, and I almost laughed in his face. Who was he to order me about? "I will watch over Silverhand." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, so you can take a shot at it too?" I snapped, "Fuck no. Leave us the fuck alone." </p><p> </p><p>"V, go do it already." Johnny pushed at my shoulder, and I almost tumbled backward because it took me so off-guard. "Who knows what could've been in this convoy? Besides," he cocked the Malorian in his hand, and lifted it up directly at Muto. The Claw didn't even flinch. "I can shoot him right between the eyes before he can even reach for his weapon." </p><p> </p><p>I didn't give a shit as to what was in the convoy. I didn't care if it was helpful to Rogue, or Johnny, or this whole stupid campaign. I didn't care if it was the key to crushing Arasaka right there and then in one fell swoop. Suddenly the situation had changed and I needed to be anywhere but here - take Johnny <em> anywhere </em>but here. If only he wasn't so heavy, because I wouldn't hauled his ass out of there over my shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>Done that once, pumped full of stims and adrenaline. Never again. </p><p> </p><p>"Fine! Fuck." I got to my feet, but left my stuff by Johnny. Maybe he'd need a stim of his own to keep him awake, or he'd have use of that knife he knew was in the front pocket. </p><p> </p><p>Muto caught me before I passed him by. </p><p> </p><p>"The Tyger Claws owe you," he said simply, "That bike you stole from the Maelstrom, it belongs to Taki Kazo. You don't have to worry about a <em> stray </em>bullet hittin' Silverhand from us." </p><p> </p><p>"Well let's hope you're better at keepin' your word than Maelstrom." I warned, stepping close to him. He was taller than me - of course he was, who wasn't at this point? - but I made sure I got real close to his face to drive my point home. "You make the same mistake as Clank? I'll find you. I'll come after you and won't stop until it's just you and me. I'll kill all your fuckin' choombas, and then I'll cut your balls off and feed them to you. Got it?" </p><p> </p><p>He snorted. "Got it." he said casually. </p><p> </p><p>Claws forced open the first truck for me. The shutter rolled up, and I hoisted myself inside. I should've taken the time to actually examine everything, but I couldn't find it in myself to give a single flying shit. I poked through the crates, finding various bits of lab equipment, and decided I didn't care. I left the truck, passing on the news it was useless, and we moved onto the second. This one was a bit more interesting; live servers, probably drawing on the vehicle's power to keep them on low-consumption standby. Sighing, I decided this was probably worth having a nose at. I approached the closest terminal and jacked in, only slightly calmed by Muto's word - it was enough to let me slow down to pay attention to what I was seeing. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> V. A pleasure to see you again. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>I almost jumped out of my skin. <em> That </em>was the last voice I was expecting to hear, especially when I was tuning out Rogue, Muto and Johnny talking on the holo. </p><p> </p><p>"Alt?" I murmured - after making sure my holo was turned to standby. This was about to get worryingly interesting all of a sudden. "What the fuck?" I asked, "How are you here?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Where is here </em>?" she asked plainly. It felt wrong to think of her as anything but who she was, even if she had become… Whatever this was. Like it would be disrespectful, or she'd get upset. As if rogue AIs had feelings. </p><p> </p><p>"Uh, Jackson Plains? Southern Santo Domingo." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Ah, so they thought to flee. Interesting. </em> " Alt mulled quietly, and I realised her voice was only echoing in my head. It I jacked out, would this convo be over? I didn't test it. " <em> It is too late for this data, now. It is mine. Arasaka believed they could recover it by taking it out of reach, but your interference has helped me recover it. Your assistance is valued, V </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh." I wet my dry lips, both a little weirded out and hasty to get back to Johnny. Couldn't keep my curiosity down, though: "So what now? You've got this data back, what'll you do with it?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> That is not your concern. I will not allow Arasaka to reclaim it; I suggest you leave this server block alone, leave it a wide berth. I will be destroying it now. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>My heart leapt into my throat. "Hey, hey, hold on!" I pleaded, "Give us some time to get clear! Johnny's hurt-" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Thirty seconds </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"Shit." I jacked out just so she couldn't hear me say, "Fuck you, Alt." </p><p> </p><p>I switched my holo back on. "Muto, get your guys clear. Haul Johnny with you, we can't stay near the convoy."</p><p> </p><p>"<em> What, why </em>?" he asked. </p><p> </p><p>"Just fuckin' do it! It's rigged to blow!" </p><p> </p><p>Rogue clicked her tongue. "<em> Shit! Should've known the motherfuckers would have contingency. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>Wasn't gonna waste the time in explaining how she was wrong. Hastily I returned to where I'd left Johnny beside the first truck, relieved to see Muto had listened to me and taken him with him. Not my gear, though. I scrambled to grab it, and raced as far as I could away from the convoy left in a big cluster fuck in the middle of the road. I'd barely cleared a few metres off road before I heard the first bang as one of the server blocks went up. Then a dozen more like popcorn - before long the whole truck was engulfed in flames, and the explosion as it hit the engine was deafening. I kept going though; the whole pack of vehicles went kaboom. </p><p> </p><p>When finally the noise died down, I panted. The adrenaline, the panic, it was wearing off, and I suddenly became aware of how tired I felt. How heavy my limbs were when I hauled myself back to my feet, and slid my pack over my chest, slipping my arm through Overwatch's strap. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> What the fuck just happened </em>?" I heard Rogue ask. For a minute, no one spoke up. Almost too afraid to say anything. Or… </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny? You okay?" I asked. I was a little scared of an answer. </p><p> </p><p>I had to hold in my sigh of relief. "<em> Fine, apart from bleedin' all over my favourite pants. </em> " he grumbled, " <em> You </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>"Fine too. Fuck, what a mess." </p><p> </p><p>When it was clear the explosions were done going off, and all that was left was one huge, smoldering fire licking off the metallic trucks beneath, we met back up in the middle. Johnny was limping, and he looked a bit pale, but was otherwise alright. Restraint was a toughie, something I was never really good at, but somehow I stopped myself from throwing myself at him. Muto was with him, hands on his hips, groaning at the sight in front of him. </p><p> </p><p>"How many guys did you lose?" I asked, mostly trying to be polite. Muto huffed, and looked down at me. </p><p> </p><p>"Only five. The real problem here is Maelstrom - they saw us pack Clank away in a trunk, haven't moved since." he jerked his head behind us, to where the Maelstrom trucks lingered at the edge of the road. Sure enough, like a few dozen creepy meerkats, I saw the beady red chrome eyes of the remaining Maelstrom gangers, watching us. "Can't believe he'd be stupid enough to think shootin' Silverhand in the back would look like an accident." </p><p> </p><p>"Dumb motherfucker. I should've killed him." I grumbled. But if I'd killed him then, I wouldn't have been able to enjoy it. I wouldn't have been able to make it slow and torturous. I would've been so overwhelmed with my anger I would've ended him in one shot, and he deserved so much fucking more. I wanted to be there when Rogue dispensed her goddamn justice. Sighing, I shook my head, "So, that favour you owe me. That cover borrowin' one of your cars to get Johnny back into the city?" </p><p> </p><p>Muto narrowed his eyes at me. Then, growling under his breath, he turned his back on me and stalked back toward the Tyger Claws. Johnny didn't need me, but I came up to him and wrapped an arm around his middle, offering him support as we followed after him. </p><p> </p><p>Never did I think I'd see the day where Claws were offering me help. Fucking forget accepting it.</p><p> </p><p>"Clank's in this one." he said, slamming a palm down on the trunk of the car we passed. We got a satisfying weak and slurred <em> fuck you </em> from inside, maybe? "I'll take him back to Rogue personally. Gonna enjoy seein' him squirm I think." </p><p> </p><p>"Man of class," I said approvingly, nodding, "If you weren't a Claw, I might actually like you, Muto."</p><p> </p><p>"What a shame." he said dryly. "Here, take this one." he turned to one of his men, said a sharp, "Keys." as an order in Japanese. My translator caught that one - was it adapting to how fast Muto spoke, or was he slowing down to let it stand a chance? Maybe he couldn't resist liking me too. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks." I took the card from his fingers, and he opened the passenger side door to let me get Johnny in. "Debt's cleared, choom. So long as this car doesn't explode when I put my foot down."</p><p> </p><p>"You'd be surprised, but," he slammed the door shut behind Johnny, "Not all of us are as stupid to try and take down Silverhand and his girl. Or V and her guy, can't tell which of you wear the pants." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted and shrugged. "It alternates day by day." </p><p> </p><p>Normally I still would've been hesitant to get into the car and start its engine. After all, the Claws were still watching me with vague disdain, even if Muto had given them orders. But that didn't matter, not when Johnny was beside me looking like his eyes were gonna drop shut any second. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, stay awake, baby." I said, giving his shoulder a gentle shake, "I'll get ya back to Vik's, just don't fall asleep on me." </p><p> </p><p>"I'm good. I'm fine." he grunted, but sunk deeper into the chair so I couldn't push him again. </p><p> </p><p>It seemed like we managed to take off at just the right time. Out of a mirror, I spied a Maelstrom crossing the road and meeting Muto in the middle. I turned back onto the road and around toward the city as he put a bullet through their fucking head. Yikes. I hung up on the holo call before Rogue could burst a blood vessel at the fight breaking out behind us. </p><p> </p><p>And as we headed into the city, I spied the familiar flash of red and blue lights whizzing past us. Well, the NCPD were about to have a grand old time cleaning up <em> that </em>mess.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Starting to get embroiled in some deep gang drama now!</p><p>Come and join the Cyberpunks discord server, read my status as of right now and suffer like the current members are! :)</p><p> <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Click here!</a></p><p>As always, I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Big Leagues</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay so I'm definitely not back into the crazy habit I was in when I started aka these chapters won't be daily uploads again lmao, I just got hooked into writing this chapter and spat it out while I still had the inspo!</p><p>This time, the Johnny PoV isn't even just a tease with a tiny segment - it's the full chapter! I had so much fun writing him, I hope you enjoy! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>APRIL 12th, 2078 / JOHNNY</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Heywood, Wellsprings … 4:01AM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Fuck. I loved sleep - after being dead so long, you'd imagine a person would get bored of it. But nah, that feeling of sinking into a bed after a long day, letting your eyes close and your muscles give up for the day? Felt too good to be true sometimes. Even better when I felt a woman half my size try to spoon me - bless V, she tried. But she barely managed to squish up against my back and put an arm around my middle. </p><p> </p><p>Plus, sleeping was easier than acknowledging how weird it felt to be walking around one hand down and with a goddamn limp. V'd driven me to Vik's and the city had just flown by in a violent blur of greys and vibrant neon that I'd almost been sick. While he was reluctantly sorting out my leg - that feeling of having a bullet dug out of my flesh <em> never </em>got old - V had decided then was the time to get the Hand sorted. Probably would've put up more of a fight if I wasn't so delirious, but by the time I'd started functioning like a person again, I would've reluctantly agreed anyway. All I could remember was it hurt like a bitch when Viktor disconnected me. Like a shock through my whole fucking system, and if I wasn't already reeling from the pain in my leg, the ripperdoc's next decision to get me high of pain meds didn't come fast enough. </p><p> </p><p>V had gotten me home, managed to haul me up the stairs, heavy and stumbling, and tucked me up in bed. I was in that weird half-and-half. Like on the edge of sleep, vaguely aware of my surroundings, but not deep enough to rest, to dream. But it was enough, after a long day. Felt like I'd been hit by a fucking train. </p><p> </p><p>It came as a handy favour, though, when it meant I woke up fast enough to realise I didn't need to grab my gun when V woke me up in a rush. I just needed to sit up and be ready for when she dove at me. </p><p> </p><p>It took a few seconds - and a quiet little sob - for me to realise she was crying. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, hey, V, it's okay," I said immediately. I'd gotten a bit better at the whole reassurance thing; once upon a time it got no better than <em> cheer up, pussy </em>. I was an arm down so it wasn't ideal, but I squeezed her with the one I still had. </p><p> </p><p>"Shit, Johnny, I'm sorry-" her voice croaked and gave up just in time for me to interrupt her. </p><p> </p><p>"Shuttup. You got nothin' to be sorry for." </p><p> </p><p>For a quiet minute, I just held her. I'd learned from the few occasions V hadn't been able to keep it in anymore - when she'd given in to the panic and the pain, and the first time she'd started crying, I didn't know what to do. She'd locked herself in the motel bathroom and I'd been forced to sit back to the door, just waiting for when her sniffles would stop. Then we'd been broken down on the side of a highway, middle of the night, no landmarks in sight for miles. She couldn't exactly hide in a bathroom that time, so I'd just sat with her and let her lean into my shoulder. That had been a long day, and I'd let her down by not carrying the weight I should've; by that point I'd felt guilty enough that I'd have taken Shit-heap apart and put her back together again if it meant getting somewhere warm then. Eventually - it was only a matter of time really - I did something dumb, something risky, and she'd gotten so angry she'd started crying in the middle of our fight. That was the first time she'd let me hug her tears out. Kicking and screaming at first, gave my chest and shoulders a good beating with her fists, but she just gave in and once it was over, she'd made me promise not to take stupid risks like that in future. </p><p> </p><p>So that was my secret. Just hold her til it stopped, ask her if she was okay. </p><p> </p><p>"You alright?" I asked quietly, wary all of a sudden that it wasn't just us two in this apartment anymore. It was too late though - Daisy was already half-up the end of the bed, and came bounding over to see what the fuss was about. It cheered V up a bit to cuddle the puppy up in her lap. "Bad dream?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah." she whispered, like her voice wouldn't go any louder. "Worst part is," she cracked a melancholic smile, and stared down at Daisy between us with a wobbly bottom lip, "I don't even remember what happened! I just - shit, I just remember the feeling. I was scared and alone, like the sort of fear that like, grips you, y'know?" </p><p> </p><p>"I know, yeah." </p><p> </p><p>I wouldn't normally admit that to anyone. But V wasn't just anyone. </p><p> </p><p>"And then I woke up," she mumbled, and gave my arm a squeeze, "My first instinct was to just reach out for you. It's been months since you were in my head and I still try to find you in it."</p><p> </p><p>"You couldn't." I finished for her, and she nodded, "We'll I'm here, V. And I ain't goin' anywhere." </p><p> </p><p>"I know that. I know." she came forward, and her brow pressed against my chest. She stayed just like that, breathing deeply in and out. It was actually quite soothing to try to follow her. "Sorry I woke you up." </p><p> </p><p>"Nah. Like I said, you got nothin' to be sorry for." idly I reached out without thinking, swept the tangles of her hair free over her back. While usually it looked vibrant and bright, in the lame light from outside the window, it looked more like a grey than pink. "Besides," I cracked a smirk, "If it'd have been me, I would've woke you up with no remorse." </p><p> </p><p>"Asshole." </p><p> </p><p>It worked though - she smiled too, but this time a proper one. Not sarcastic or moody, just a real grin. With a soft sigh, she sunk back down against the mattress, letting Daisy come with her. I followed, and I would've complained about the puppy between us blocking the way to her, if Daisy wasn't so damn cute. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Johnny." she whispered, and she had that sort of distant, glassy look in her eye. She was already zoning out to sleep again. </p><p> </p><p>"No problem, V. Just try to relax, 'kay? I can take down any gonk that tried to hurt you, but feelin's? I can't shoot feelings."</p><p> </p><p>She let out a little snort, and closed her eyes over. Her breathing went shallow, soft, and I knew the second she was out cold again. Jesus fucking Christ, she scared the shit outta me. I thought I'd jump up to see some gonk with a gun to her head or dangling Daisy over the fourth-storey balcony. Wouldn't be the first time someone's tried to take what I cared about. My freedom, my arm, my band, my career, Alt. My life. Wasn't gonna let anyone take V, never. Not Daisy either. </p><p> </p><p>Speaking of… The pup let out a soft whimper and looked up at me with those big doe eyes and - with V asleep - we both figured it was time for a snack. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt, after all.</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>APRIL 18th, 2078</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Heywood, Wellsprings … 3:12PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>V had been… Off all week. She woke up in a funny mood, would barely talk over breakfast, took her showers all on her lonesome and then she'd distractedly find something to fill our daily diary with. She'd refused to take any proper jobs while I was an arm down, so I was resigned to normal people things. Things like being handed a fucking shopping list and being sent out for groceries, things like taking Daisy for walks. Trying not to piss her off more than she already was - which I still didn't understand why - I'd do the stretches Viktor had instructed me to without even needing to be asked. Was making sure my reflexes were still intact without the Hand to fry up my nervous system. I'd tidy up the bed, wash dishes she'd left to pile up, I'd even do the fucking laundry. I hated laundry. </p><p> </p><p>But still she was mad. I didn't know what I'd done, but whatever it was, it must've been stupid. Maybe something small I didn't even think about to not even realise why I'd made her angry at me. </p><p> </p><p>I woke up on Saturday morning to an empty bed and a whining puppy at my feet. V had gone out, without telling me. That was fine - she was a grown woman, could do what she wanted, didn't need to check in with me. But she'd done it without feeding Daisy, and she never did that. Either she'd left in a hurry - bad sign - or she hadn't left of her own accord - even worse. </p><p> </p><p>So I called her holo. I prepared a speech, a lecture, an emotional sob story to make her feel bad while Daisy cried down the receiver. But she didn't answer, and that didn't help the anxiety in my gut. There weren't signs of any struggle in the apartment, and I wasn't that heavy of a sleeper to have ignored it. So that ruled out the idea she'd been kidnapped, but it didn't ease it any. She'd still left in a hurry, or a daze, which spelt disaster. V was good at making decisions, but only if she thought about them long enough. If she sat down in a calm, quiet environment, considered her options, made up her mind, doubted herself and then made it again. She was shit at making impulsive decisions, and I knew what those nerves of hers were like. She'd feel bad about making the <em> wrong </em>one for weeks. So the fact she'd rushed out without thinking about Daisy was bad enough, but that meant she wasn't thinking straight, and that was even worse. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, see ya later, baby girl." I'd said to Daisy, giving her a little pat on the head, and then struggled to squeeze through the door without her following me. I was convinced I was her favourite parent, and every day she was picking up more habits to make me believe it more. Shit-heap was gone, so V had at least been nice enough to leave me my car. Or maybe she'd made the unconscious decision to avoid being seen or noticed - my Porsche was sorta iconic, after all. It was hard not to recognise it. </p><p> </p><p>So I went straight to After. Parked up, locked up, headed in. Was loud and gloomy inside as ever, and I got an unreasonable amount of stares and a decent number of greetings from mercs I didn't even know. Suddenly felt transported back to 2013, back when I'd waltz into the Atlantis and every gonk and his choom would desperately try to be friends with me. By that point, Samurai was already legendary and I'd pulled enough stupid gigs outta my ass that I was as famous as it came.</p><p> </p><p>My first stop was at the bar. I waited until Claire noticed me - she was plenty buddy-buddy with V to offer some insight, suggest something I might've missed. Meanwhile, a few guys I didn't know came to try to sit with me, offered to buy me a drink. </p><p> </p><p>"Next time, choombas." I said dismissively. Turning down free attention was not something I usually did - even <em> I </em> admitted that. Felt great having an ego, I'd rather be confident than not. Still, that was not my priority. I caught Claire's attention and waved her over; needed to check on V, first. Drinking could come later.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, Silverhand," Claire greeted when she strolled on up, eyeing up the gonks still clustered around me, "The usual?" </p><p> </p><p>"Not today. Do you - can you lot piss off?" at the bark, the lot of them dispersed, some more reluctantly than others. Huffing, I turned back to face the bartender. "V took off today without sayin' anythin', you know if she took any jobs lately?" </p><p> </p><p>Claire eyed me with a tiny smile on her face. "What did you do?" she asked in a sing-song voice, and of course she assumed it was <em> my </em>fault before anything. I had too, though. </p><p> </p><p>"I don't know. She's been grumpy all week, so if I fucked up, it was too long ago that I can remember." I shrugged. I put my chin in my hand and wracked my brain. She wasn't mad about me getting shot, was she? That wasn't <em> my </em>fault. Maybe she was mad because I'd trusted Clank not to fucking shoot me. She wasn't mad that we couldn't work because of my sorry state. She'd said so. But V could lie with ease. Maybe me being an arm down was as frustrating for her as it was for me. </p><p> </p><p>That wasn't like V. If I did something that pissed her off, she'd let me know. It wasn't like her to keep it to herself just to spite me. </p><p> </p><p>"Has she taken any jobs?" I asked again.</p><p> </p><p>"Not that I know of. You could speak to some of the fixers, see if anyone's seen her." Claire offered him an apologetic look, shrugged. "Rogue's in her usual spot, could see if she's seen V round. Just watch, she's been a bit snappy lately." </p><p> </p><p>"No different to the usual, then." I grunted, and stood up. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue was alone in her booth. Was busy staring at her holo - glaring, really. Any harder and she might've burned a hole right through it. Torres wasn't on duty today, thank fuck. Didn't wanna deal with him on top of everything. Asshole was the only person here who'd ever seen me one-handed before too - didn't want him reminiscing. Instead it was Weyland; his kid, anyway. That Squarma V had met. He shot me a grin when he saw me, and admitted me into Rogue's booth without even checking with her. </p><p> </p><p>"Might I steal some of your precious time, your royal Majesty?" I asked sarcastically, bowing at the waist. Her eyes darted up to look at me without moving, and then down - then immediately back up again to the stump at my shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>"Where the fuck's your arm gone?" she asked. I helped myself to a seat on her right, sinking back against it. She was wearing those tight leather pants that made her ass look great, but as soon as I noticed, I swept it outta my head. I actually felt bad for thinking about it. Rogue wouldn't think twice about giving me the finger at the idea of me even touching her nowadays, and V was on the forefront of my mind. We'd never talked about it, but I just knew without needing to ask that she wanted what we had to be exclusive. </p><p> </p><p>Shockingly, I agreed. Unlike old me. </p><p> </p><p>"Repair shop." I shrugged, "I'm meant to be a glorified house husband right now." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue huffed. "Then why are you here, bugging me?" </p><p> </p><p>I could've jumped right to it, but my curiosity was eating at my insides. </p><p> </p><p>"What did you do with Clank?" I asked, shocking us both with how calmly I managed to ask. To remind us it was <em> me </em>and not some impersonator, I added, "Hope you gutted the cunt." </p><p> </p><p>"Nah, not yet." she idly checked out her nails. "I've got him out back, been teaching him a long and slow lesson. Gotta make an example of him - if this is gonna work, we need people like gangoons to listen to us." </p><p> </p><p>I hummed. "Somehow I don't think torturing one Maelstrom is gonna get you undyin' support from unruly folks like gangs." </p><p> </p><p>"Well, it'll do some good." she decided. "The Commander's been particularly helpful in making Clank squirm. You didn't tell me he was a specialist in espionage." </p><p> </p><p>"I didn't know." </p><p> </p><p>I didn't, I had no fucking clue. He'd been my captain for a term in Mexico, and my focus had always been on his fucking attitude: no matter how hard he pushed us he'd always try to be understanding and receptive to critisim. Was all a farce, a big act. Even young, naive Robert Linder knew no one in a place of power gave a crap about the little people beneath them. Once a liar, always a liar. Guy rubbed me the wrong way even now. </p><p> </p><p>"You wanna know why he tried to kill you, Johnny?" Rogue asked. </p><p> </p><p>Clank. I huffed. "Same old story. Big shot, thinkin' he could make a name for himself by chancin' it." </p><p> </p><p>"And you let him have that chance." </p><p> </p><p>"Rogue, he shot me in the fuckin' leg. Wasn't gonna die from that." </p><p> </p><p>"No, but if V hadn't have been there, he would've executed you there and then." </p><p> </p><p>Before it could turn into a lecture - <em>you already flatlined once,</em> <em>Johnny, don't take risks </em>- I used the mention of a certain someone to change the subject. </p><p> </p><p>"You seen V?" I asked casually, folding my legs up on the coffee table. "Any of your fixers give her a job lately?" </p><p> </p><p>"I don't keep tabs on every person that wanders into my place offering eddies to the first merc that jumps at their problem, Johnny."</p><p> </p><p>"Maybe you oughta."</p><p> </p><p>She huffed a sigh, "Listen, Johnny, your marital concerns are not mine." Huh, now both of us had made a joke about marriage. V would balk at the idea. "I'm not gonna play ball with you just so you and V can go at it again-"</p><p> </p><p>"Why does everyone assume we're arguin'?" I grumbled, exasperated. </p><p> </p><p>"Because you're here, asking me where she is. Not on the holo or even sitting down with her having a civilised conversation." Rogue rolled her eyes with a scowl, "Haven't you learned by now, Johnny? You're a cluster fuck. All your relationships end in disaster, because of what you do."</p><p> </p><p>I blew hair outta my face, and raised my brows. "Fuck, that was mean." </p><p> </p><p>"Am I wrong?" </p><p> </p><p>"About me and V, yeah. It's different."</p><p> </p><p>She barked a laugh. "I give it a few more weeks. Dunno how V has the patience to keep up with your bullshit." </p><p> </p><p>Why was I even fucking sitting here? I came to her for help, not for her to criticise me. She had problems with <em> me </em>because of how our fling fucked up, what did that have to do with finding V? She had no clue what was between me and V because it was none of her business. Who was she to judge, when I'd been a completely different guy back then? And I had V to thank for not being him anymore. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue sure loved to hold onto her grudges. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, she isn't answering her holo." I decided upon. Was no use arguing with her more about it - let her think she'd won, and she'd be easier to convince to help. "She didn't leave a message, no note. Was gone before I woke up. Gun gone, truck gone, favourite jacket gone." </p><p> </p><p>"You know her favourite jacket?" </p><p> </p><p>"It's that rally bolero she's always wearin'. Turtleneck style, hot as fuck but not the point."</p><p> </p><p>"You're easy to please. Turtlenecks a new kink or what?" </p><p> </p><p>"Rogue." I said firmly, and the smirk fell off her face with a huff. "Seriously, she left in a hurry and that means she wasn't thinkin' straight. I don't want her doin' somethin' stupid." </p><p> </p><p>For a little while, Rogue just stared at me. Sussing me out, narrowed eyes just burning holes into me. Then, she rolled them, and brought her holo up to her face, dialled a number, and put it to her ear. </p><p> </p><p>I waited as patiently as you can when your girl is off doing God knows what, God fucking knows where. When Rogue eventually pulled the holo down from her ear, she frowned at it for a minute.</p><p> </p><p>"There's nothing she has to do?" she asked, looking up at me again.</p><p> </p><p>"Nothin' she'd turn her holo off for."</p><p> </p><p>I tried to wrack my brain for things she might be doing. Aside from taking on a job, she could've been shopping for new iron, visiting a fixer in town. Gone for an aimless drive, maybe, but she wouldn't have turned her holo off for that. She could've gone to see the Aldecaldos, but again - why the fuck would she turn her holo off? </p><p> </p><p>V didn't have any hobbies. There was nowhere she'd be for fun, other than going for a drink and a dance, but it was too early in the day for that. Why would she go out celebrating anyway? And without me, on purpose. She knew I loved partying, and she was fun as fuck to drink with. Could scratch that off the list. </p><p> </p><p>"Call anyone else you think she might've gone to see." I instructed, and I immediately added a dry, "Please." knowing she wouldn't otherwise. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, she'll probably just turn up in a few hours." she waved a hand at me, "Give her some time. When she's calmed down, she'll forgive you. It's hard not to." </p><p> </p><p>"For fuck's sake, Rogue, I didn't do anything." I got to my feet, scoured my pockets for my smokes. I'd left the case in these jeans yesterday when I'd dumped 'em on the floor before bed. Except now they were gone too, just like V. Fuck. "Somethin's up, I just know it. I've behaved myself better in the last week than I have in my entire fuckin' life. V's facin' somethin' and she shouldn't have to on her own." </p><p> </p><p>She just stared at me again. I stared back, hand on my hip, just daring her to say more bullshit about how I'd said or done something to upset V. Just like I'd speak before I thought about the words in my head like I did with her, like I did with Alt. She still hated my fucking guts for the way I'd treated her. Didn't blame her, really. Mayor of dicktown was my title back in the day. But that didn't mean V had to deal with her shit on her own because of the way I'd treated Rogue - if she still had a heart in that chest of hers, even if it was cold, she'd help a guy out. </p><p> </p><p>"Fine." she huffed, "I'll contact some fixers, see if they know where she's been. I still think you're making a problem out of nothing." </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Rogue." I made no comment on her opinion. Didn't need, didn't ask. Was I blowing things outta proportion? I wouldn't know til I found V, and demanded to know why the fuck she was being so distant lately. Literally now. </p><p> </p><p>It was a long shot, but I tried Kerry's number. Even if he hadn't seen V, maybe he'd give some advice that present-day Johnny would actually consider. Or, maybe like Rogue, he'd say fuck you because Johnny from our hay day didn't give a shit about what anyone around him said. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> No, I ain't seen her </em> ." he said between a long yawn - just rolled outta bed. Lazy ass. " <em> Why, she finally decided you ain't worth the trouble too </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>"That one's gettin' real old now, Ker." I huffed. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Johnny, if there's one thing you're known for, it's fuckin' up good things. And V? She's as golden as you're ever gonna get, bud. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Why do you think I'm tryna find her?" I grumbled, squeezing my holo between my ear and shoulder, and rubbing at my eyes. I was tired already, fuck. And this whole one-arm business was lame. I felt useless. "How do I apologise for somethin' I haven't done?" </p><p> </p><p>Rogue eyed me curiously with that one. I made use of my holo still on my shoulder to give her a middle finger before grabbing hold of it again.</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Maybe she's just goin' through some shit, man. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"If she was, she wouldn't have left the fuckin' apartment without feedin' the dog." </p><p> </p><p>Another funny look from Rogue. Shit. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Oh shit, she didn't feed Daisy </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>"No. And she always does - she left in a hurry." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Huh. Okay, think hard - today's date, it mean anythin'? Did she mention anythin' she needed to do today? Does she have a calender or a planner, even just a list on the fridge </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>"Only list on the fridge are the complaints of chores I didn't do right." </p><p> </p><p>If Rogue gave me one more look, I think I would've just exploded. Was it so hard to imagine me in a vaguely domestic setting? </p><p> </p><p>I tried to picture her in one - couldn't, funnily enough. </p><p> </p><p>Still, Kerry gave me time to think about it. Today's date… I didn't know V this time last year. In fact, the first date I remember V being conscious enough to recognise after booting up that fucking biochip was April 30th. The day after that first night I'd realised I could actually interact with her, mess with her head. I'd actually tried to kill her. </p><p> </p><p>Well, things would've definitely been different nowadays if I'd succeeded. </p><p> </p><p>But what did that mean for today's date? Did something happen last year, before I knew her? Desperately I dug through my memories - the memories of <em> her </em>memories. What I'd seen when that backstabbing, sell-out fixer of hers had shot her in the head, and that biochip gave me a crash course on her life in the last twenty-four hours. </p><p> </p><p>"I know where she is." I said as it hit me. Rogue looked up at me with a quirked brow, and I said a quick, "Thanks, Ker." before hanging up on him. </p><p> </p><p>"You look like a man who's just seen the light." she commented, a tiny smirk on her face. </p><p> </p><p>"How do I get to El Coyote Cojo?" </p><p> </p><p>Rogue's instructions took me downtown and through Heywood. Ended up passing by the apartment on the way through Wellsprings, and into the Glen. El Coyote Cojo was in the middle of a bland block, all brown and depressing. The neon yellow of the sign assured me I'd parked near to the right place, and I checked out the grafitti in typical Valentino style on the red tiles outside. Heading in, it was like I'd stepped into a Latino version of Afterlife; tasteful artwork of red roses above a huge ox skull, underneath which was the bar lit under colourful neon. Music was pumping but at a lower, more welcoming volume than Afterlife's usual; felt cozier. Vibe was warmer, too, plenty of orange light. I felt like I'd been here before, but I hadn't. V's memories were pressing heavy on my head, this place was important as all hell to her. And I knew she was here - I could fucking feel it. I could feel her mood from here, as weird mix of giddy, pained and lonely. </p><p> </p><p>I was gonna make a line straight to the bar to ask for her. I knew <em> of </em> the guy behind the bar - Pepe. I'd helped V sort out the guy's martial problems. But someone side stepped right into my path, and after one quick look, I fucking knew this gonk too. His ears gave it away first; big ones, jutting out the side of his head, from which cheap overlay glasses hung from. Still hadn't moved up higher in the world from his usual tracksuit getup either. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, choom, do I know you?" he asked, poking a finger at me. His tone was far too chipper and light to be talking to me in this mood. "You look familiar." </p><p> </p><p>"No." I said bluntly, "But I know you. Kirk, right?" </p><p> </p><p>Kirk grinned, "My reputation proceeds me. That's me." </p><p> </p><p>"Good."</p><p> </p><p>And then I punched him. Right in that nose of his, feeling the satisfying crunch beneath my knuckles. Fuck, he deserved that so much. That and more. </p><p> </p><p>His beefy bodyguard lunged for me but I ducked under his arm. I wasn't a pushover, even an arm down; he tried to grab me and I backed up with ease. Maybe I'd play with these gonks for a bit, beat the shit outta the big guy and finally give Kirk the beating V had been too afraid to dish out. </p><p> </p><p>Well, my cockiness was always my downfall. A second too slow I sidestepped from a punch, and yelled a, "Fuck!" as I felt something in <em> my </em>nose crack. I tripped over my janky leg, and hit the ground with a grunt. Motherfucker, that hurt like a bitch. </p><p> </p><p>Someone came to my rescue though, and it wasn't who I might've expected. </p><p> </p><p>"What's goin' on? Break it up, boys, break it up." the voice was familiar enough that I knew it, but not from my own memories. Mama Welles stepped into my sight, hands on hips, peered down at me on the ground. I groaned and sat up, staring at the obscene amount of blood on my hand from just holding my face. She sighed. "We don't want to have to be throwin' people out now, do we? Play nice, Kirk." </p><p> </p><p>"That fucker hit me!" he cried, poking a hand at me. The only consolation to my pain was that he looked like he was in a whole lot more. </p><p> </p><p>"And your guy hit him. You're square." </p><p> </p><p>Huffing, I used the only hand I had to push myself to my feet, leaving a handprint of red on her tiles. My leg was starting to burn - I hadn't done much walking on it in the last week, just rambling around the apartment and the occasional short walk outside before V had yelled at me to get off my feet. </p><p> </p><p>"V's here?" I asked, panting to catch my breath. Goddamn, I was in rough shape. Couldn't wait to get back into my prime again - shitty leg, no Hand, now a bleeding nose. Needed to start working out again; V'd love that to see me get my six pack back. </p><p> </p><p>"And who might you be?" Mama Welles asked, folding her arms. Even if I towered over her, she didn't give a shit. Just looked up at me like a disapproving mother. </p><p> </p><p>"V's input." </p><p> </p><p>I'd never said it aloud before. Neither had she. But the split second of horror on Kirk's face was fucking worth the lecture I'd get from V if she found out I'd said as much. <em> Why'd you gotta label it </em> ? She'd ask, huff maybe, <em> Don't make it complicated.  </em></p><p> </p><p>If anything it made things easier. I'd never been clear enough with Rogue and Alt, and I wasn't about to make the mistake a third time. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, she's here." Mama Welles said. Nothing more, nothing less. </p><p> </p><p>"I forgot what today was." I said knowingly. Softened my voice as much as I could with the scratchiness of my own goddamn blood in my throat. "She took off without a word this mornin', I just wanna make sure she's okay." </p><p> </p><p>I was getting tired of being stared at and judged by women lately. Been sussed out enough by Rogue for one day, and now Mama Welles was at it too. But then she just shrugged. </p><p> </p><p>"Come on, then. Better than you bleedin' all over my bar." she decided, and turned on her heel. I followed after her and gave the exasperated Kirk a bloody middle finger. I followed her up the stairs, and heard her sigh before she looked at me, "Why'd you go and punch him, huh? I half contemplated throwin' you out." </p><p> </p><p>"He deserved it." I said simply, and squeezed at my nose. It hurt, but this blood was ridiculous. Woulda been nicer to turn up unexpected at V's side less soaked in it, but at this point, she shouldn't be surprised. I shrugged. "He's fucked over V too much." </p><p> </p><p>"He fucks over everyone. Maybe I should start chargin' to let people get one punch in." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted. "Fuck." I grunted. Bad idea.</p><p> </p><p>Could see most of the main floor from up here over the wrought iron rail. Door, too. Spotted Kirk standing by it, whining on the holo to someone about his nose, no doubt. Still worth it. </p><p> </p><p>At the end of the line of booths, in the one in the corner, in the dark, I spotted V's head of pink hair under the neon light. The orange overheard made it even brighter than usual, like she'd coloured in her head with highlighter ink. Mama Welles stopped nearby and let me announce myself, giving me a single, warning look before heading off. Groaning, I sank into the booth opposite her. V lifted her head off her arms to look at me, and a horrified gasp tore from her when she saw me. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, what the fuck? What happened?" she scrambled up, and I slid further in to make room for her beside me. She fussed over my face, and finally I think my bleeding was stopping. Without warning, she cracked my nose back in place, and it took every ounce of restraint I had to not howl the place down. "Shit, are you okay? Johnny?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yep." I groaned weakly, "I'm fine."</p><p> </p><p>She reached for the pile of napkins that had been dumped uselessly by her empty glasses. I did a tally - eight. Fuck. Before I could get too distracted looking at them, she turned my head to face her instead. She mopped up the majority of the still-wet blood, and wet some napkins with a bit of spit to rub off the dried stuff on my face and neck. I'd had worse things on me than my girl's saliva. </p><p> </p><p>"Who hurt you, Johnny?" she asked in a soft voice. She'd long since stopped cleaning me up - her hand still lingered on my neck, on the side, thumb running back and forth over the same spot. </p><p> </p><p>"Kirk's gonk." I grumbled, "But I got the first hit in so s'all good." </p><p> </p><p>She blinked. "You hit Kirk? Why?" </p><p> </p><p>"Fucker's messed you about a lot, he deserved it." I shot her a smirk, "I also enjoyed it. A lot." </p><p> </p><p>"Stupid motherfucker." she scolded with no real venom. If she'd meant it, she wouldn't still be touching me - or be so close I could smell the Smash on her breath. </p><p> </p><p>"Spent all day lookin' for you." I said, resting my forearm on the table. She frowned at me, before dropping her gaze to her lap. Was that guilt creeping in? Good. I wanted her to feel bad for running off without a goddamn word. "I didn't realise what was up at first, but it's your old choom, isn't it? Jackie." </p><p> </p><p>V swallowed. After a short while of silence, she nodded. "Yeah. He, uh-" she cleared her throat, and blinked rapidly. Like she was batting back tears. "This time last year we went into Konpeki." </p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry, V." I meant it, too. She lost her best friend only to gain me, who at the time, was the biggest asshole and her biggest problem. What should've set her up for life ended up almost cutting it short. And that guy, Jackie, he'd had his own life; Misty, his girlfriend, his mom who'd just told me off like she was mine, and V. Probably more people he cared about, who cared about him. He had dreams, goals. And the thing I was most jealous of was the way V felt about him in her memories - she felt safe with him, secure. Like she could tell him anything no judgement and he wouldn't tell a soul. Like she knew he'd jump in front of a bullet for her in a heart beat. It wasn't the same for me. </p><p> </p><p>Even in death, Jackie Welles held V's unwavering loyalty. That was a feat he had to be proud of, wherever he was. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Johnny." she whispered, and sighed. Her head hit my shoulder with a little thud, and for a little while she just stayed there. Breathed in and out, her hair tickling my neck. I just hoped the blood on my tank top was dry already, because it'd be a shame for that pretty pink to be ruined by it. </p><p> </p><p>Mama Welles brought up a bottle and left it on the table without a word. V weakly picked it up in her hand, and drew over two of the empty glasses, pouring some in each. </p><p> </p><p>"Jackie's favourite tequila." she explained as if I'd asked the question. I took the glass and we clinked them together. It burned as it went down. "It ain't Afterlife's fancy mixing, but goes down all the same." </p><p> </p><p>"Why didn't you tell me where you were goin', V?" I asked. I half contemplated bringing up Daisy's empty food bowl, but I couldn't do that to her; the glazed look in those red eyes of hers, the puffed up skin round them. Cheeks stained with tears she'd given up trying to wipe away. But I'd still make her know what I'd been feeling all day. "You scared me, V. Took off without a word."</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry." was all she said at first. Just a quiet, meek little apology. Wasn't her style, not one bit. I set down my glass and tapped at her chin, turning her up to look at me. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm not mad. Just wanna understand." </p><p> </p><p>She shrugged flimsily. "I don't know, I just…" she set down her glass, ran a finger absently around the rim of it. Her usual red polish was chipped. "Whenever I think about Jack, I feel… Guilty, y'know? Like I could've done more. Like I could've done somethin' to save his life, and if I had, he would still be here. Mama Welles wouldn't have to mourn another kid, Misty wouldn't be alone. And I didn't wanna, I don't know… Make you feel the same guilt. Sounds horrible, but sometimes it feels like I traded him for you, y'know? Not the same, not really, but he headed outta my life and you came in."</p><p> </p><p>"You don't gotta feel bad about that, V. Me bein' here wasn't some sorta fucked up reward for what happened to Jackie-" </p><p> </p><p>"I know. I know that, but…" she huffed, turned. Put her elbows on the table and sunk her fingers into her hair. "I see what we have, Johnny. I got up this morning and looked at you in bed, I looked at Daisy. I looked at our nice apartment and our clothes, our iron, and felt like I didn't deserve it. Why am I here but Jack isn't? Why do I get a happy life when he's gone?"</p><p> </p><p>"Life ain't fair, V." I wanted to touch her, put my hand on her back, her shoulder, something. But she was on the wrong fucking side and I couldn't do anything with a stump. "But you know he'd want you to be happy. Fuck all that stuff about you not deserving it, if anyone doesn't deserve what we got, it's me. Everythin' we got is yours." </p><p> </p><p>I didn't want to make it sound like I was making it about me. For a split second, I felt a dumb little streak of fear run through me that she'd think that was what I was doing. Rogue would've picked up on it: <em> Not everything is about you, Johnny. </em>Alt would've said something similar, told me to fuck off. Kerry, Denny, Nance, Henry, fuck - even Commander Kyle fucking Torres would've probably tried to call me out on it. </p><p> </p><p>But V just nodded. She just nodded and knocked back the rest of her tequila. And then, no warning, turned to me and came at my mouth like an angry wildcat. I was more than happy to provide, and when she was done, she pulled away from me and squeezed at my shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry for not talkin' to you, Johnny." she said, "I kinda worried you'd… I don't know, not give a shit."</p><p> </p><p>"Once upon a time, you'd probably be right." I shrugged. "Go backward a year and I wouldn't have cared. It's your fault I'm so soft nowadays, V." </p><p> </p><p>A hilarious joke about being soft no doubt sprung to her mind as quickly as it appeared in mine. Neither of us said it though, even if I caught a glimpse of her little smile at the thought. </p><p> </p><p>"Sorry for makin' you come out, too." she continued, "What with the whole, limp, missin' limb. Probably a fractured nose to add to that too now." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted, shaking my head. "It was a fun adventure." </p><p> </p><p>"I went with Misty first thing this mornin' to see Jackie." V said, and finally tucked her hair back outta her face. I'd stopped myself a good dozen times from doing it for her. "We bumped into Mama Welles there, and she invited us back for drinks. Misty stayed for a few but had to go back to the shop." </p><p> </p><p>"Were you runnin' late?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, why?" </p><p> </p><p>I almost said it. She didn't need to feel like a terrible mother, though. Instead, I shrugged. "Just a hunch. You left the bathroom counter in a fuckin' state." </p><p> </p><p>She cracked a smile. "I'll tidy it when we get back." </p><p> </p><p>"Too late. Already done it." </p><p> </p><p>A suspicious-mixed-with-surprise look crossed her face. Like she wouldn't have been shocked if it were a lie, but she'd actually taken note of how helpful I'd been lately and wasn't sure. I held her gaze, almost daring her to call me out on lying. But she didn't, only smiled at me. It was like a little invitation all on its own and I couldn't resist kissing it off her.</p><p> </p><p>"You're great, Johnny." she murmured against me, letting out a little wistful sigh. "I don't know what I'd do without you." </p><p> </p><p>A jolt shot through my chest. She meant it. It wasn't just that she was drunk or influenced by the sadness she was feeling; she meant it, every bit. I wanted to say something back, something just as meaningful, but I didn't wanna fuck it up. I didn't trust myself to say the right thing, so I just kissed her again. I was tired of fucking up. I wanted to do right by V, I never wanted to do her wrong. Without her I'd still be dead. Without her I'd still be a prisoner in Mikoshi. </p><p> </p><p>But it was more than that. She meant more than that. She wasn't just the girl who stumbled her way through saving her life, and mine as a random by-product. I regretted not punching Kirk harder, or just knocking him out cold. I'd do it for her. I'd take on ten guys just like Kirk's bodyguard for her. </p><p> </p><p>"Come on, let's get outta here." she decided, pulling back. "Let's go and just relax at home. That sound good?" </p><p> </p><p>I sighed softly, nodding. "Sounds perfect." </p><p> </p><p>A thought suddenly occurred to her as she slipped out of the booth, and offered a hand to me. Wrong side for it to be helpful though, so I waved her off and used the table to haul myself up. </p><p> </p><p>"Let's stop by a music store on the way home," she suggested, "I'll buy you whatever guitar you want." </p><p> </p><p>I quirked a brow, "What brought this on?" </p><p> </p><p>"Well, if you're gonna be playin' with Kerry again, you're gonna need one." she waited until I was on my feet to pull gently on my shoulder. Her breath was hot on my ear. "Plus," she whispered, "You've been doin' the laundry, you good boy."</p><p> </p><p>The snort that left me was agonising. Immediate regret washed through me and I groaned, giving her the middle finger when she grinned at my suffering. Together we headed downstairs, and she returned the still-mostly full bottle of vodka to Pepe behind the bar. On the way out, I made sure to be on her left; that way I could put my arm around her shoulders as we passed by Kirk. I could also conveniently turn my hand around to give him the finger as we went by. He was a good sport and returned it even if he was still nursing his broken nose. </p><p> </p><p>"Pussy's too scared to crack it back." I chuckled to myself, and V gave me a look. The <em> I'm supposed to be angry but you're making me laugh </em>sorta look. </p><p> </p><p>"Since I'm vaguely drunk," she said as we stepped out into the cool afternoon air, "You're drivin'. We'll come get Shit-heap later." </p><p> </p><p>"Fine by me. So long as you trust me to drive one-handed." </p><p> </p><p>She frowned at me, as a thought crossed her mind. "Wait, how the fuck did you use the gear stick?" </p><p> </p><p>I winked. "Everybody's got their secrets." </p><p> </p><p>And feet. Most people have feet. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed! I wanted to give a nod to Jackie because like everyone, I miss him. He didn't deserve his fate.</p><p>Please consider leaving a comment with your thoughts, I love reading them! &lt;3</p><p>I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr, and you can come and chat with me there or in the Cyberpunks discord here:</p><p> <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Click here!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. tick tock silverhand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*hands you another Johnny PoV because I have no self-restraint*</p><p>Buckle up, boyz. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>APRIL 22nd, 2078 / JOHNNY</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Watson, Little China :: The Afterlife … 7:58PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>As the last fixer sighed, got to his feet, and left us alone, I sank down into the leather of the booth seat underneath me. When me and V had strolled into Afterlife earlier that evening, coming in only for a drink and a good time, eyes were on us. New-blood and veteran mercs alike had offered to buy us drinks, asked to sit with us and exchange stories of jobs both good and bad. They'd been coming and going for the last hour in and out of our booth, and I was already getting tired of it. I only wanted a Silverhand because I missed actually saving said hand attached to my fucking body. And I had been the one to convince V to come with me. <em> It'd be fun </em> , I said. <em> Let's go out, grab a bite, terrorise Rogue. </em> She'd insisted that it'd be better to stay in, avoid any sort of trouble, and just watch movies or some shit. Now I was starting to think she had a point. </p><p> </p><p>So alongside the fellow mercs trying to up their rep by hanging with us, there were the fixers. Trying to - despite me evidently lacking my famous Silverhand - offer us work. Big jobs, big money, "As it should be for legends like you two." one of them had said. V was doing a great job at keeping me grounded before my ego could swell so big I'd agree to anything. I wasn't stupid, but she definitely asked more questions than me, got all the good deets before deciding. And tonight, she was saying no to everyone. It was starting to get too funny. Was barely able to keep my mouth in a straight line when a new guy came and propositioned us, and she heard him out and engaged in the conversation just to turn him down with a flat, "No thanks." Some of them even had the balls to ask me separately from her. I'd laugh; "Package deal." I'd say, and nod at my arm slung around the back of V's couch. </p><p> </p><p>Then came the even ballsier clients. The ones tryna avoid using a fixer; they'd come over not exactly knowing who we were, just recognising the fuss. And it didn't take V more than a minute of conversation to realise the sort they were. Doing biz and cutting out the fixer was a sure-fire way of shooting yourself in the foot, she'd say. The fixer was our insurance, our backup if things went wrong. And since I'd barely walked off my last limp thanks to a bullet to basically the foot, I trusted her gut. </p><p> </p><p>"I swear to God, if one more gonk tries to offer us a job, I'll rip his balls off." she muttered beside me, and I snorted a laugh. </p><p> </p><p>"Why ain't ya workin' right now, Miss V?" one of the mercs still managing to cling onto our booth asked. A couple of them had managed to linger despite her glares - the braver ones, ones who looked like they'd been on the streets a few good years, with chrome to back it up. Then there were the rats who'd barely figured out which shoe goes on which foot, cocky in place of confidence. V had managed to weed them out over time with her stare, and where others could cower under her red gaze, I think I'd be fucked if she looked at me like that. Fucked as in I'd be so turned on I'd fuck her there and then if she asked. </p><p> </p><p>"We're on a short break." she said simply, shrugging. "We'll be back to work in no time. So take all the good jobs while you can." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue passed our booth by and gave us a curt nod. Tried to give her a salute with my arm around V's neck, while V just completely ignored her. Yikes, risky. Messing with Rogue and her necessity for respect was something I was all too painfully familiar with - and I used to fuck her. She used to let me get away with all kinds of shit just because we were an item. But V? Fuck, she had no reason to like V. And lately, their different stances on this whole war on Arasaka thing were making me feel like I was split in two directions. Three, if I counted V's conflicted feelings on it. </p><p> </p><p>I didn't wanna risk it all either. But I was done running - I was gonna finish the fight I started sixty years ago. V deserved better than a life on the run forever. </p><p> </p><p>With a sigh, V sunk down into my arm, laying her head back on my shoulder. I hummed at her, peering down at her face; eyes closed, corners of her lips turned downward. Scowling.</p><p> </p><p>"Tired?" I asked, and she grumbled something incoherent. Us coming here had been solely my selfish want, but I thought she had been enjoying herself. There'd been a spark of joy in her eye with every fool she'd built up and knocked down, as amused as I was. But maybe I'd had a few too many Silverhands to actually notice she was lying again. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm gonna head back." she decided, "I'll take a cab or the metro. You stay, have a few drinks." </p><p> </p><p>She got to her feet and I tried to follow. But with a firm hand on my chest, she shoved me back down again. The complaint was literally on my tongue and she ate it up with her own, sliding down into my lap as if we were all alone. Our little audience gave us jeers and I managed to flip them off behind V's back. </p><p> </p><p>"Stay." she repeated, clambering up to her feet. "Have fun. I'm just gonna go be borin' and have a nap." </p><p> </p><p>"You sure you don't want me to drive you?" </p><p> </p><p>"Mhm. Or do you need me to put you back in that chair again?" </p><p> </p><p>"I could use another reminder."</p><p> </p><p>She rolled her eyes and headed out. Sighing, I reached for the glass I'd had to abandon in favour of having my arm around her, and chugged it down. It wasn't any fun with some random gonks. Needed to actually know the people I was drinking with to actually have a good time - so I stood up and found Rogue. Invited myself into her booth with her pals. Got a friendly welcome from everyone <em> but </em>her. I swear, if she didn't occasionally do me the odd favour here or there, I'd think she fucking hated my guts. </p><p> </p><p>I found myself halfway through my next drink, feeling weird. Not the <em> oh fuck someone's spiked my glass </em> weird, but the <em> I'd rather be somewhere else </em>weird. For whatever reason, sitting here under the glaring green lights of After and being deafened by its blaring music didn't cut it for me. Instead I found myself imagining being in bed. With V beside me. Or under me. On top of me. Working up a sweat, preferably. </p><p> </p><p>Before I got too carried away imagining what her voice would sound like if she said my name with my hand around her throat, I swallowed the last of my drink. I'd be reminded if I got home to her in a decent mood. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm out." I said abruptly, grunting as I got to my feet. My leg was taking its sweet time healing - was it just my head imagining it, or did it hurt every time I put weight on it? "Night, Rogue. G'night all these other people I don't know." </p><p> </p><p>I was in the car before I realised I wasn't even paying attention to know if anyone had even responded to me. I took my time on the drive back - wasn't drunk enough to lose control but bleary-eyed enough to be in trouble if I put my foot down too hard. To everybody's relief, I made it back alive, in a car without scratches. The stairs had become my mortal enemy in the last few weeks, and when I'd finally made it to our floor, I breathed a sigh of relief. </p><p> </p><p>The door slid open for me, and the first thing I noticed was all the lights were off. That was okay, I'd probably find V napping like she said she would be. Except I wandered over to the bed to sit and rest my leg. She wasn't there; it was still nearly made like it had been that same morning. Had to make sure I wasn't completely delirious, so I glanced over at the little lounge, finding it completely devoid of anything shaped like V. Kitchen too. In fact, Daisy came whining at my feet like she'd been alone for hours. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, baby, you okay? You been lonely?" I wanted to pick her up to cuddle, but I didn't trust my only arm to hold a wriggling puppy tight enough. Instead, I reached down to pet her, giving her belly rubs when she rolled over. "Where's your momma, huh? She in the shower?" </p><p> </p><p>Couldn't hear it on though. Maybe she was just in the bathroom. I got to my feet and knocked on the door with a, "V? You in there?" waited a minute. Counted each goddamn second before I opened the door and found it as dark as the rest of the apartment. Untouched like neither of us had been home all day. </p><p> </p><p>Okay, holo then. This whole “where the fuck is V” nonsense was getting old. I'd already had to worry about her once in the last week, that was enough for an entire month. Year. Forever. That was the fucking downside of being in my own body again; I wasn't with her when she needed me. But I actually had the means to help her nowadays. It felt like a useless tradeoff. </p><p> </p><p>I called her number, and waited. When she didn't pick up, I shrugged. Gave it a minute and tried to distract myself with playing with Daisy, rather than counting the time like a madman. And then when she'd had plenty of time to call me back, I tried again. And again. And she didn't answer. </p><p> </p><p>"Not cool, V." I muttered. I tried again. A message popped up before she wouldn't have the chance to answer. No words, just a picture. A single photograph. </p><p> </p><p>It was V. Except she hadn't taken that photo - someone else had. Someone else had knocked her out cold and taken a photo of her body in a rainy gutter. </p><p> </p><p>A message followed.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>V:</b>
</p><p>
  <em> tick tock silverhand  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>I don't really know what happened. Everything flew by in a blur; next thing I knew I was back behind the wheel of the Porsche pulling into Afterlife's lot. I was marching in past Emmerick without a word, ignoring every call of my name, every gonk that tried to talk to me. </p><p> </p><p>Straight to Rogue. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, you're back." said one of her little posse when I stopped outside of their booth, trying to catch my breath. </p><p> </p><p>"Rogue, I need to talk to you." I said abruptly, "Now. It's important." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue huffed a long and low breath. For a while - for too long - she simply sat there and looked at me. Judging my expression, my posture. She came to the conclusion that I was genuine, and unfolded her legs to stand up with me and beckon me into a back room. When the door closed shut behind us, I immediately turned to her. </p><p> </p><p>"Where the fuck is Clank?" I demanded. </p><p> </p><p>"Out back, where he's been for the last few weeks." she replied cooly, hands on hips. Her eyes narrowed, and she stared hard at me for a while. "You're… You're <em> panicking </em>.” she said with a little bit of horror in her voice, “I haven't seen you like this in a long time. What's happened?" </p><p> </p><p>Wordlessly, I showed my messages with V. That single photograph that sent my blood boiling; there was blood in her hair, stark red against that pink. She'd been attacked from behind while she couldn't defend herself. Was she even armed when we went out tonight? She always was, but… I didn't check our stash. Maybe she didn't even have her iron. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay." Rogue let out a breath, "Let's stay calm, Johnny. Why do you think Clank has anything to do with this?" </p><p> </p><p>"Because that motherfucker tried to kill me, and he would've killed V too. You know it yourself, Maelstrom wanna get back at us for what we did - it wasn't just about my car, Rogue, it was a job. V stole a bike back for the Tyger Claws and it was fuckin' bait. If the Claws had taken it back, it would've been a gang war. V nabbed their bait, V ruined their plan, and now they gotta bow to you."</p><p> </p><p>Everything I was saying was clicking in place as it tumbled out of my mouth. All of it was one big fucking cluster fuck. It was all one downward spiral, all originating from that fucking bike. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue rubbed at her chin, eyes narrowed at the ground. She was thinking, taking it in. She was like V; considered the situation from every angle, thought about every plan, every outcome. Alt wasn't a merc or even a fixer, but she calculated all her decisions just the same. Goddamn, I had a thing for girls with brains. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, I don't see why you'd be wrong." she agreed, nodding, "But why do you wanna see Clank? What would he know if he was locked up here for the last few weeks?" </p><p> </p><p>"He tried to take me out alone, Rogue. You said it yourself, V stopped him, but if she hadn't have been on her toes, he would've killed her too." I huffed, pushing my hair outta my face. It was hot, my heart was pounding. "Maelstrom want revenge, they were planning it even then. They wanna use us to get them outta this deal with you." </p><p> </p><p>"I can take you to him, but I don't know if it’ll be any help." </p><p> </p><p>I nodded. Even if he knew nothing, I still wanted to punch his ugly mug for shooting me. I should've killed him on that highway, not just returned what he gave to me. I'd just been scared of hitting V. </p><p> </p><p>Even when she didn't actively discourage me from my stupidity, V was helping me out. Right now, Clank was my only lead. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue led me deeper into After. I'd heard about these other areas but had never wandered here myself; V had put her foot down and stopped me from going deep past the Antechamber. Beyond this point, Rogue permitted the sorta of things younger Johnny would've loved: down here in the Crypt, there was deafening music and violent flashing lights on the dance floor, with back rooms for high-risk gambling. Then down further, deeper into the underground was Hades - built half into an old abandoned subway station, dark and gloomy, where big brawls went down and big money was betted on the winners. Wouldn't mind having a round at all of these when things were quiet again; come dancing with V, make her all hot and bothered when I took my shirt off to get into the ring. </p><p> </p><p>But that wasn't gonna happen. V wasn't here - she was out there with some fucking weirdo Maelstrommers at their complete mercy. I was gonna find them, and I was gonna tear them limb from fucking limb and enjoy every goddamn second. I'd put them through so much agony they'd regret even knowing V was a letter of the alphabet. </p><p> </p><p>"This way." Rogue instructed over the distant bass booming through the dark and gloomy tunnels - they were lit only by the emergency strip lights of red under our feet. It was a great atmosphere, but I understood why newbie mercs were scared of this place. I knew I wouldn't get shanked round the next corner, but they didn't. A round of cheers erupted so deep through these tunnels, I couldn't even tell what direction it came from. Evidently someone had just been knocked out clean in the ring. </p><p> </p><p>"Honestly, never really believed this place was real." I admitted, "Doesn't really seem your style. Like you don't run this gig." </p><p> </p><p>"I don't." she said with a shrug, "I own it, but I don't run it. Hades and the Crypt are watched over by men who answer to me. No one runs anything down here." </p><p> </p><p>"Homely." I murmured sarcastically. Rogue expertly ignored me. </p><p> </p><p>We took a left into a dead-end corridor with a rounded ceiling. On the right side of the slim passage was a doorway - the original subway door had been replaced by something more heavy-duty, robust. A guy stood outside it, and nodded his head politely to Rogue as she approached. </p><p> </p><p>"Open it." she ordered, and he did so without hesitation. </p><p> </p><p>She led me inside. The room was small, claustrophobic even. Cold and damp - no natural light, just the gloom of a single, weak, white bulb overhead. Clank was sitting in a chair. Slumped, really, wrists and ankles tied so tight he must've lost circulation days ago, weeks. Blood on his face, his chest, all over. A few broken bones here and there probably. Some of his chrome had been ripped out on his back, joints outta his spine. He looked utterly fucking miserable. </p><p> </p><p>I'd feel sorry for the guy if he'd stopped at shooting me. But him and his gonks messed with my girl, so he deserved a whole other world of pain.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, Clank." I greeted casually, putting my hand in my pocket. He heaved a breath, lifted his head to stare at me with a red, beady eye. The other one was gone. Torn right outta his skull. </p><p> </p><p>"Mister Silverhand!" he chuckled jovially, though he got caught on a cough. "To uh, what do I owe the pleasure?" </p><p> </p><p>I smiled at him. As sickly fucking sweet as I could make it, and squatted in front of the chair. He smelled so fucking bad - just like that Maelstrom van of his, only ten times worse. Like they'd dumped a dozen sweaty corpses in it and left it for a week. </p><p> </p><p>"Your buddies have somethin' of mine." I began slowly, letting every word sink in. Clank just quirked a bloodied brow at me - I got some satisfaction from watching it twitch with the effort at keeping it raised like that. "If you plan had failed - like it did, I'll remind you - you were gonna do somethin' else. <em> Go </em>for someone else."</p><p> </p><p>He chuckled, a dry, gross little chuckle. He cocked his head at me. </p><p> </p><p>"Your bird's gone a'wanderin', then?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, she's gone <em> a'wanderin' </em>." I spat at him, and without hesitation, cracked a backhand across his face. He coughed and spluttered, and I hoped to fucking God he'd bit his tongue or it had smashed his teeth together. Would've hurt more if I'd had the Hand to hit him with instead. I grabbed a fistful of the flimsy shirt he had clinging to his wiry chest and pulled him upright to look at me. "Where the fuck is she, huh? Where've your fuckin' gonks got her?" </p><p> </p><p>"Why the fuck would I know?" he heaved, head lolling back from my grip. He had a dried trail of blood coming from his nose, and now a fresh one trickling from his mouth. "I've been locked up 'ere for who-the-fuck-knows how long." </p><p> </p><p>"You know. I know you fuckin' know." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh. Because they'd still keep her in the same place if they knew I knew." </p><p> </p><p>I released him - throwing him back into the chair. Turning back to Rogue, I tried to cool off the blood boiling under my skin long enough to look as pleading as I could. </p><p> </p><p>"Get Torres," I requested, and she just looked at me with a firm expression for a while. "Please, Rogue, if anyone stands a chance at gettin' any info from this weasel, it's him. I need to go get geared up."</p><p> </p><p>"You're not seriously considering going after her?" she asked, and I almost exploded at the suggestion of an otherwise. </p><p> </p><p>"Rogue, you and I stormed fuckin' 'Saka tower the last time this shit happened." I spoke quickly, trying my damndest to keep it under control. Keep it under wraps. "I ain't lettin' it happen again. I won't lose V like I lost Alt." </p><p> </p><p>She just stood there in that gloomy, weak light, arms folded. There she was, in all her goddamn glory. Queen of the fucking Afterlife with me at her mercy, V's fate in her fickle fingers. </p><p> </p><p>"Fine." she finally said, getting a breath of relief from me. "If we get anything outta him, I'll contact you. Keep your holo ready to go." </p><p> </p><p>"You’re the best, Rogue." </p><p> </p><p>And as she led the way back up through Hades, the Crypt, back to the main Antechamber of After, I realised I fucking meant it. Without Rogue, I'd be fucked. Running around Night City like a headless chicken trying to find any goddamn lead I could. Be at the mercy of V's captor and wait for more messages, more threats. Maybe storm every Maelstrom base there was in this city and destroy them until I found her or they killed me. </p><p> </p><p>"Good luck." I told her as she left me at the bar. "Get every last drop of information outta that bastard." </p><p> </p><p>She rolled her eyes. "Who do you think I am, Johnny? I leave no stone unturned." </p><p> </p><p>My first stop was Misty's Esoterica. I drove the Porsche right up through the alleys until I was outside the door, ignoring the shouts and curses from the night life pedestrians who'd been in my way. I got hit by a wave of dejavu. I'd been in a rush to get back here once before, but not in this body; in V's, after she'd risked it to meet that porcelain bitch Hanako Arasaka in Embers. When she'd collapsed in the elevator, and she was so weak I'd been able to break through the little barrier between our minds. I'd brought her here myself, and stepped back to let her take control when she'd came to a few hours later. Yet another chance I could've snapped up to have her body for my own. </p><p> </p><p>Holy fuck, I'm glad I waited. </p><p> </p><p>I pounded on the door to Misty's shop. It was late, and I doubted if she'd even be inside. Still, I waited, tried again, louder and harder this time. She'd closed up, but I had hope she was still in. As I raised my hand to knock again, the door slid open and I froze up before I hit <em> Misty </em>instead. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny." she said in a strange voice, like I was the last person she expected. Probably was. "What's the matter? You feel…" </p><p> </p><p>I cut her off before she could even start. Didn't have time for her mumbo jumbo bullshit right now. </p><p> </p><p>"Vector's still in his shop?" I asked, and all I needed was her little nod to charge in uninvited, through to the back alley. She hurried after me, down the stairs and into Viktor's dingy and dark clinic. He sat at his desk as usual, slumped over and tired, but still awake. That was all I needed. "Doc," I greeted, pulling open the gate. He looked up when we walked in, and quirked a brow. Odd duo, especially without V. "I need that arm." </p><p> </p><p>"It's not done." he said simply, shrugging. "Still missing a few parts. Come back in a week." </p><p> </p><p>"I don't have a week, I need it now." </p><p> </p><p>He rolled his eyes at me and I resisted the urge to charge up to his desk and punch him in the jaw. </p><p> </p><p>"If it ain't ready, it ain't ready, Silverhand." he dismissed, "I can't pull miracles outta my ass." </p><p> </p><p>"You don't fuckin' get it." I snapped, "V's been taken. Maelstrom have her - I need that fuckin' arm!" </p><p> </p><p>Misty let out a horrified little gasp behind me. All of a sudden, the ripperdoc was taking it a whole lot more seriously. He got to his feet - instead of his usual wheeling across the space - and crossed the room to a table in the corner. He flicked on a light overhead, and I joined him; on the table's surface was the Hand in all its shiny glory. Viktor had taken it upon himself to find replacements for panels that were damaged irreparably, even taken the time to polish up the old parts of the chassis to match the glitzy new chrome. It was in pieces; upper arm separate from forearm, cables hanging loose, panels unscrewed to reveal the circuitry underneath. The elbow joint looked completely different from how it used to be, and the old pair of spikes on its axis were a whole bunch of violent looking implements. Forearm too had been adjusted: panels were laid out in a way that it looked like they'd layer together easily, but it wasn't just two lame layers anymore. Different parts in different sizes, hiding away what looked like a goddamn mantis blade. </p><p> </p><p>"I made some improvements, as you can see." Vik said, gesturing only vaguely at the parts on the table. "I was plannin' on more, but I guess you'll have to come back." </p><p> </p><p>"You'll be able to put this together for me now?" I asked. It looked a whole lot more complicated than I'd given him credit for. The old one paled in comparison and even that was supposedly a technological marvel when taken apart and studied. </p><p> </p><p>“Who do you think I am?” he looked at me like I had two heads. “Siddown on the table.”</p><p> </p><p>That was the worst part about the whole thing. Being forced to sit in that chair, trying to keep my mind blank while Viktor worked. Misty had offered to bring us drinks or food, and he’d asked for two glasses and the bottle of bourbon he kept in the locked cabinet near his desk before I could say anything. He worked fast, but not fast enough. I felt antsy, fidgety; every time I blinked I just saw that photo of V on the backs of my eyelids. What the fuck were they doing to her now? I shuddered at the thought. I knew it was hopeless to think they hadn’t touched a hair on her head. They’d already started hurting her, and I’d pay them all back fucking quintuple what they’ve done. </p><p> </p><p>“What I’m fittin’ for you now is basically a prototype,” said Vik, distracting me. He gestured at the loose connection between my shoulder and the top of the arm, where he’d started connecting some cables back up. Slowly, feeling was coming back - if I tried hard enough, I could twitch the one metal finger he’d reconnected. “I haven’t finished even half of the functionality of the code, so half of the features won’t be workin’ just yet. The mantis blade, for example.”</p><p> </p><p>He carefully folded the blade in on itself, and tucked it beneath the long outside panel of my forearm. It locked in place with a little click, and I didn’t see any sort of release for it again. </p><p> </p><p>“Come back later once V’s safe, and I’ll sort it. When it’s done, it’ll all be in your head. Just think and it’ll happen, you’ll just have to get used to it.” </p><p> </p><p>I nodded. I could get used to having more arsenal in this famous arm of mine, but I’d take what I had before right now if I needed it.</p><p> </p><p>“Just - be careful, alright?” he was busy screwing the joint of my elbow in tight, and when he was done, eased my forearm up and down by the wrist to test it. I still couldn’t move it on my own though. He poked me in the shoulder. “I mean it, Silverhand. It’s all experimental. Overdo it and it could potentially fry your nervous system entirely. V’d kill me if she knew what I was doin’-”</p><p> </p><p>“V ain’t here.” I said sharply. For a minute he just stared at me silently, then sighed and nodded in agreement. We both knew that if I stood a chance at getting her back in one piece, I <em> needed </em> this arm. I didn’t give a shit if it called down a goddamn bolt of wrath from the heavens. As long as it gave me the means to rip apart any Maelstrommer who put their hands on her, I’d use it. I’d use anything. I’d use a fucking <em> pencil </em>if I had to. </p><p> </p><p>A few minutes later, when all of my fingers and their joints were bolted back together, Vik took a breath and turned to the monitor at his side. “Alright, I’m gonna connect it back into your system now. Might be a bit jarring, might give you a bit of a shock.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do it.” </p><p> </p><p><em> Fuck! </em> God-fucking-damnit, that hurt more than it did when it was disconnected. Maybe it was because last time I’d been delirious, but this felt like something else. Like a thunderbolt through my entire body, like someone had set my veins on fire. I breathed deep, in and out, waited for it to fade. When it did, I groaned, and sunk back against the back of the chair, conscious all of a sudden how weighty the left side of my body felt. </p><p> </p><p>“Take this.” Viktor instructed, and out of habit I reached up with my fleshy hand to accept the medicine he was holding out to me. “Two puffs and it’ll soothe your system a bit, make it more receptive to the arm. Take two every three hours, Silverhand. Got it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I got it.” I mumbled, and tried to sit up. My left arm felt like dead weight, but it was only because I hadn’t tried to move on my own yet; it felt oddly jarring to have it back. I’d only just gotten used to life without it. Fuck, that brought back memories I didn’t wanna face. Things I’d pushed down into the dark recesses of my fucked up head. Panic, fear, it all just came rushing back. Carlos’ big dumb grin - then his face struck with horror as death came for him. The fucking agony and the inhuman scream I’d let out when I’d realised my left arm felt weightless - <em> was </em>weightless. How sick to the stomach I’d felt when I first got the metal arm fitted. How I’d refused to use it for weeks because I worried I’d see my last meal a second time. </p><p> </p><p>It took me a hot minute, but I managed to push the thoughts back down. This wasn’t the same. I was doing this for V, not for myself. Not for my <em> hope </em> ; “ <em> You can’t let this stop you, Robert,” </em> Torres had said, <em> “You’re a good man. With this arm, you can keep going </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>It was a fucking lie, because in his eyes, I’d never amounted to anything after that. I’d dishonoured him and our regiment, made a mockery of the whole thing by fleeing and losing myself to every rotation of the ceiling fan in a dingy room in the Pista Sophia. And when I got up I discarded the man I was - half contemplated becoming Carlos. He’d been a good man, didn’t deserve to die for me. But I couldn’t do that, couldn’t live up to his name. So I’d done the next best thing; that hotel was a good place to die for Robert Linder, and for Johnny Silverhand to walk out. Was pretty sure the music I started making after that point counted as public humiliation for my dear Commander. Fuck him.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, let’s test everything.” Viktor said, and suddenly I was returned to his clinic. I blinked, and nodded absently. He ran through some basic drills, made sure I could at the very least move properly. Had me testing both my new and improved metal arm as well as my existing body - “Could’ve caused some damage elsewhere by pluggin’ and not testin’.” he explained.</p><p> </p><p>Slowly, I slid up off the table. I could stand on two feet and not fall over so that was a good start. Arm felt heavier than it ever had, though; was it just because it wasn’t air anymore? Testingly, I rolled my shoulder, rubbing my thumb over the cold metal panel over my collarbone. It wasn’t the Hand anymore, it had become something different. But it wasn’t even all that it was supposed to live up to either. It’d do for now. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re all set, then.” Doc said, getting to his feet. He dusted off his hands, and rubbed a finger at his eyes under his glasses - he looked worn out. Maybe even more than me. “Don’t forget - no overexertion, take the medicine every three hours. As soon as you’ve got her, call me, and I’ll patch up whatever the fuckers have done."</p><p> </p><p>I nodded. Both of us had already accepted the unfortunate, unfair reality. We knew what this city was like - how it’d chew up and spit out the vulnerable. And that’s what V was right now; caught unaware, alone, unarmed. </p><p> </p><p>"Let's just hope her ware's panic program's still workin'." he grumbled and rubbed at his face, "I knew I should've checked it last time she was in." </p><p> </p><p>"Panic program?" I echoed, raising a brow. </p><p> </p><p>He waved a hand. "Uh, it's basically a last resort. Body's close to death? It kicks in, shuts down everything but vital organs - you're as good as dead to the world but in the hands of a ripper, you can survive. Risky as all hell, but…" </p><p> </p><p>"Last resort." I nodded. It was good to know, but still a sorta terrifying concept. That she'd even thought she'd need a thing like that… </p><p> </p><p>“Good luck, Silverhand.” Viktor closed the gap between us and offered me his hand. I took it in mine - with the shiny new silver he’d given me - and shook it. “Make the fuckers bleed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I intend to.”</p><p> </p><p>Driving was a whole lot fucking easier when I had both hands. I was still waiting for Rogue to get back to me, and it was only made sufferable by remembering the amount of pain Torres was probably inflicting on Clank to get him to squeal. I sped back to the apartment, and headed upstairs. Daisy greeted me, all cheery and happy, and I breathed another quiet, <em> thank you </em> to Viktor as I managed to pick her up in my arms. She licked my nose and my cheeks, looking offended over the stray beard hair she was now trying to spit back up outta her mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not gonna be comin’ back again tonight, baby girl, okay?” I said softly as I set her back down. She pottered about after me as I headed straight to the stash. I didn’t give her any of the details I had running through my head; the unbridled joy I was gonna get out of setting a Maelstrommer on fire, shooting another between the eyes. She was an innocent little baby, didn’t need me telling her stuff like that.</p><p> </p><p>Out of the wardrobe I grabbed my vest; a bulletproof one that was as close as I was gonna get to my old one. I hadn’t had the time to stick patches on it yet, as was my want. But that didn’t matter now. I strapped it on over a t-shirt, and covered the whole thing with the leather jacket V had bought for me. I’d barely worn it. But if I was gonna rock up to a Maelstrom hangout and decimate them, appear in front of her like a knight in shining armour, it was gonna be in the shining armor she’d picked for me. </p><p> </p><p>With my trusty iron strapped to my leg, I took care of Daisy. Overfilled her bowl with kibble, set down her own water bowl filled to the brim and a human bowl with it too. I didn’t know how long I was gonna be gone, and if I was honest, I hated being here on my own. This wasn’t even my <em> home </em>; V made it feel like that. In the dark like this, I felt like I was back in those grungy dressing rooms after a show. Before I’d met Alt, or when she refused to come to a show. Girls’d try to come and keep me company but even if I’d let them in, they couldn’t chase away the feeling like I was all alone. Just that empty, gaping feeling in my chest. Like even if I made music for the masses, sung my fucking heart out on that stage, it was all meaningless. Because in what world would my music change anything? How could one guy screaming into a microphone knock corpos outta their ivory towers? </p><p> </p><p>I think what I did in 2023, in Arasaka Tower - it had been festering for a long, long time. Alt was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.</p><p> </p><p>Daisy, for a little while, fought it back. I sat with her for a little minute, letting her lick at my fingertips and bark at me in her squeaky little voice if I drew away. But I couldn’t sit here all night just waiting for Rogue’s contact. I picked Daisy up underneath her tiny front legs, and kissed her on the head. And then I left the apartment, got back in the Porsche, and drove to After. If Torres hadn’t gotten the information out of Clank, I’d go back to beat it out of him myself. This time, with the Hand.</p><p> </p><p>I was stared at when I entered Afterlife for the third time that evening. People were starting to catch on that <em> something </em> was happening, because the first time I’d come in, at ease, V at my side. The second time I’d raced in, driven by fucking rage and panic. Now, I was armed - both in the literal sense and with a gun - probably looking ready to kill someone. I was, and it’d be Clank if he wasn’t helpful.</p><p> </p><p>Claire was behind the bar as usual. It had been a few hours since I first strolled up asking for a Silverhand and a V - and now I was regretting asking for the latter in the large glass. Had she been too sluggish, tipsy, unable to fend off her attackers? I shook off the thought and stopped by the bar, leaning heavily on its surface. My right hand was shaking. I suppose I should’ve been glad Viktor hadn’t finished work on such miniscule responsiveness, because I think if both hands were shuddering, I’d look like the wreck I felt. </p><p> </p><p>“Where’s Rogue?” I asked when she approached. </p><p> </p><p>“Out back, as far as I’m aware. Haven’t seen her in a hot minute.” Claire shrugged, and her eyes shot down not-so-subtly to where my hand reflected the green light better than a mirror. “Somethin’ up? Where’s V?”</p><p> </p><p>I wet my lips, unsure of how much to tell her. V trusted Claire, so I knew she wouldn’t go spilling to every gonk that wandered up to the bar, but I also didn’t know who could hear me over the music. Anything I let out, any fear or worry or doubt - if that made it back to Maelstrom, they’d use it against me, against V. They’d only see what I wanted them to see, and vulnerability wasn’t it. It’d also end poorly in collateral for Rogue’s little campaign if people took it upon themselves to wage war on Maelstrom in V’s name. I was shocked I’d managed to keep my head for so long to stop myself from doing it, honestly. </p><p> </p><p>Most of all, I couldn’t risk V. I needed to be smart and try my fucking hardest to replicate her brains, because if I made a single mistake, they could shoot her dead and I’d be able to do absolutely nothing to stop it. </p><p> </p><p>So I just shook my head. “Just a job.” I said dismissively, “V’s at home.”</p><p> </p><p>Claire one hundred percent saw through my lie. But she just nodded slowly like she believed me, hand rubbing a slow circle with a cloth against the bar top. She offered me a drink but I refused before I got tempted. Couldn’t lose my head, nor risk getting drunk. If I did that, I’d go off on a rampage, and that had never worked out well for any plan in the past. </p><p> </p><p>A hand settled on my arm and it was sorta jarring to actually feel it. I looked up to see Rogue by my side, and her hand fell away as quickly as it appeared. She jerked her head to follow me wordlessly and I did. Somehow the walk back down to Hades felt faster this time. She didn’t take me to Clank though - maybe she could feel the murderous intent just rolling off me in waves. Instead we took a slightly different route through the tunnels, and we passed by one of the entrances into the arena; an old boxing ring stood in the middle, surrounded by a good few dozen people, screaming their little hearts out for the fighter that had all their money. </p><p> </p><p>“In here.” she said, gesturing to a shut door out of the way, in another dead-end tunnel. I pushed it open with my left hand, trying to force myself to get accustomed to using it again. This room was a bit larger than the one Clank was being held in, but no less depressing. Gloomy and dismal, all cold and dirty tiles on the walls and floor. This one didn’t have old blood stains, though. </p><p> </p><p>Torres was sitting at the table, and looked up when I came in. He got to his feet and offered me his hand. I don’t know what possessed me to shake it. As Rogue came in and shut the door behind us, he nodded to the chair opposite him - for some reason I felt like <em> I </em>was about to be interrogated, not Clank.</p><p> </p><p>“Well?” I asked when no one said anything, “Does he know where they’re holdin’ her?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got some questions first, Johnny.” Rogue came around to stand beside Torres. I wanted to laugh. </p><p> </p><p>“Bad cop, good cop routine, huh?” I leaned back in my chair, kicking my feet up on the table. I poked a finger at Rogue, “I’ve had you in bed and your top-game sucks ass, so you’re not bad cop.” and then at Torres before she could speak up, “And you’re a <em> gentleman </em>, so neither are you. You can’t both be good cop.”</p><p> </p><p>“Johnny.” she said firmly, expertly ignoring my dig, “We need to know about the job you and V pulled off. Where, specifically.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why? Is that where she is?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just give us a damn address, Johnny.”</p><p> </p><p>I huffed. I tried to remember, I really fucking did, but I had no clue. We hadn’t even driven there that day, we’d gotten public transport - which was <em> awful </em> - because we knew we’d be driving out on rides we didn’t have before. So if I’d stood a chance at remembering the way, that was quickly stubbed out. </p><p> </p><p>“All I remember is that it was in Watson.” I said, “In… Northside? Was a Maelstrom gig, an auto shop but it was a cover for somethin’ deeper, probably. We killed one guy, I punched the manager in the nose, and we got off. You know the rest.”</p><p> </p><p>Rogue rubbed at her chin. “And who gave V the job?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know. Some guy, I assume a fixer, called her the same day. The bike belonged to a Claw.”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s only a few people that work with Claws.” she said thoughtfully. I sighed, sat upright, leaned heavily on the table. </p><p> </p><p>“Does this matter in the fuckin’ slightest?” I snapped, "The longer we sit here wastin' time, the more parts of V they're gonna cut out." </p><p> </p><p>The idea made me sick to the stomach. <em> Tick tock, Silverhand </em>. How long were they gonna wait for me before they started hurting her? </p><p> </p><p>"Calm down, Johnny. Don't lose your head." said Rogue in a far softer voice than she'd managed all evening. Her hand squeezed my shoulder before it slipped away. "But you're right. This sort of thing can come later." </p><p> </p><p>"I don't see why it matters." </p><p> </p><p>"Because there might be a chance to solve this peacefully. No more bloodshed. We get both Claws and Maelstrom to play nice and-" </p><p> </p><p>"You think I'm gonna let them off with no <em> bloodshed </em>?" I echoed the words and they tasted like poison on my tongue. I scoffed. "Nah, Rogue. Anyone who's so much as looked at V in the last few hours are gonna be dead when I get my hands on 'em. I'm gonna make all of them hurt." </p><p> </p><p>She studied me silently. I huffed and looked away, turning my attention to my old Commander, who was regarding me wearily. He'd been tired of my bullshit years and years ago, and my time serving under him had been a slow process of realising what the fuck kinda state the world was in. And now? Now I'd had years to fester the hatred for the corps and people like him who'd served so willingly, proudly. </p><p> </p><p>The worst part was, now I was relying on him to find my girl. And owing him my whole goddamn world was the worst position to be in. </p><p> </p><p>"Clank was difficult," he began in that low, monotone voice of his. Fuck I hated his voice. "But, I did succeed in getting some things out of him before he lost consciousness. I can continue but he must rest first, otherwise I fear he will pass before he shares anything else." </p><p> </p><p>"Wonderful. Thanks, great story. Important part now." </p><p> </p><p>"He told me the original plan for enacting his revenge." he said, making those little gestures with his hands he always had. He'd told me it was a nervous habit once - and apparently he'd never shook it off. "He was to wound both you and V, and he unfortunately went into some gruesome detail as for what was planned for you both." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted - <em> gruesome detail </em>, said the guy whose fingernails were backlit with the blood of the guy he'd just been torturing. He'd said it like he was gonna squirm. Double-standard, just like I'd said. </p><p> </p><p>"However, it quickly became apparent to me that Clank himself was expendable by his superiors. And he, being a fool, had fed into that expectation by growing arrogant, by attacking you before the plan demanded. So I'm afraid I believe Clank isn't privy to enough details to precisely pinpoint Miss Frazier's location."</p><p> </p><p>"V." I corrected, not like it was particularly vital. But if she knew someone was calling her that, she'd scowl so badly she'd look like a completely different woman. </p><p> </p><p>"Yes. My apologies."</p><p> </p><p>Slowly, I sunk back into my chair. If Clank didn't know then… What now? Where did I go from there? I'd considered going to every Maelstrom base I could find and killing every man and woman in there until I found her, but I was starting to worry that would have to be the only way. Silently I pulled my holo out of my pocket, checked my messages to V. Nothing had changed, nothing new came in. I noticed something hadn't before though; the last, real message that she'd sent to me had a dozen stupid x's at the end. I counted them, and then put the holo back in my pocket.</p><p> </p><p>She’d meant them as a joke. She had no idea how much they helped me keep my cool there and then. </p><p> </p><p>"So in short, you got nothin'." I said, looking into Torres' eyes again. He just regarded me calmly, judging whether I was <em> in the right state to receive such news </em>. "Well? Fuckin' spit it out." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue put her hand on my shoulder again. Like she was holding me back from mauling him to shreds with my bare hands. "I'm gonna check in with some informants," she said, calmly, "Do some diggin'. I'll find her, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>I balled my hands into fists against the tabletop. It took every fucking ounce of self-restraint in my body - including in my fancy new arm - not to use them to punch Torres until there was nothing left of his skull. I'd made the same fucking mistake Robert Linder used to; I'd trusted him. Trusted him to help me. And now here he was, making me more disillusioned than ever. That was an impossibly impressive one-up from spurring me to start a band to scream at the world how fucked up it was. Maybe even a one-up from using said band to start a fucking riot against the filthy rich Torres once proudly served. </p><p> </p><p>"I will continue to work with Clank." he vowed, as if that was gonna change anything. "If there is even a shred of knowledge in his head, I'll deliver it to you, Silverhand. I swear that to you." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh." I said dryly and kicked my chair back from the table. "Rogue, I wanna help. Take me with you, let me speak to these informants." </p><p> </p><p>She quirked a brow at me, but her smile was warm. Warmer than I'd seen it in months. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, somehow I don't think that'd go well." but she nodded, "If there's anything you can help me with, I'll let you know. For now, just do us all a favour and get some rest, okay? You don't even have to leave After, I'll set you up near my office so you're ready to go the second we get a name, address, anything." </p><p> </p><p>I swallowed. It felt like there was a lump that didn't wanna go down - maybe it was my fucking heart, pounding so hard my chest hurt. Reluctantly I agreed. I'd let her set me up with somewhere to sleep but I doubt I'd be able to. I'd probably just lie there all night staring at my holo, and get so furious that sleep would be the last thing on my mind. </p><p> </p><p>When Rogue got me a goddamn name, I was gonna crack some skulls. Kill anyone who got in my way. No one messed with V without dealing with Silverhand. </p><p> </p><p>… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>APRIL 22nd, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / ??? …??? </b>
</p><p> </p><p>God, these fuckers were amateurs. I flexed my wrists behind me - the cuffs were NCPD-grade, no doubt stolen, so they were tough. No way I'd be able to break my way out. Still, they weren't even babysitting me. Just left me in that dark room with no human contact as if it'd intimidate me, as if I'd break and beg them to let me go.</p><p> </p><p>Joke's on them, I didn’t mind being alone thanks to never quite being unable to kick an engram of my asshole rockerboy outta my head. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey! I wanna have a lil chat with whoever runs this gig!" I called, kicking my feet a little on the ground. Fidgeting usually pissed captors off so maybe I'd draw some attention this way. My head was killing me and I felt dried blood in my hair, but I wasn't gonna let onto it. "Come <em> on </em>." I goaded, smiling into the gloom around me. Someone was watching me, I knew it. Whether it was with a camera or they were just lingering out of the edge of my vision. </p><p> </p><p>I sighed when no response came. I wet my dry lips, just wishing I could do the same for my throat. How long had it been since I had a drink? Why did it feel like it had been <em> days </em>? That was impossible. I could still faintly taste a Silverhand on my tongue - I hadn't even had a Silverhand. That had been Johnny's doing. </p><p> </p><p>Now there was an idea. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm doin' you all a favour!" I sung, shifting on my numb ass. This chair was uncomfortable. "If you play nice and let me go, you won't die. If you don't, well… You know Johnny Silverhand is gonna come for me." </p><p> </p><p>For a long, silent minute, I thought no one was gonna bite the bait. But I grinned in victory when I saw someone step into the light above my head - his chrome gave him away as a Maelstrommer immediately. Aha, so that was what this was about. Clank or the gig. Maybe both. </p><p> </p><p>"Can only hope Silverhand cares enough about you to come right into this trap, stupid bitch." he said, and I was unable to resist the urge to roll my eyes. He didn't like that, though. Stomped forward, grabbed a hold of my face between his fingers - grubby little things dug into my cheeks. "You just roll your eyes at me?" </p><p> </p><p>I snorted. "Sure did, bud." </p><p> </p><p>"That won't do. Gonna have to fix that." </p><p> </p><p>I tried to jerk my head back outta his grip but he held tight. A sudden bolt of fear shot through me when I realised what he was doing - panic overwrote any other instinct, and I kicked my feet at him, fought against the chair holding me down. The scream that I made wasn't voluntary. When he was done, just to add insult to injury, he slapped me clean across the face. </p><p> </p><p>I was shaking. Violently, horribly shaking. When I opened my eyes, a big black spot blotted out half of my vision. On the ground at my feet, a Kiroshi implant rolled around on the dirty concrete. Its bright red iris stared up at me. </p><p> </p><p>"Push it again, bitch," he growled in a warning tone, metallic voice like a fucking knife in my ear, "And I'll take the other one too."</p><p> </p><p>To his surprise - and mine really - I laughed. A little hysterically. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny's gonna fuckin' kill you." I breathed, trying to stay on top of my racing heart. My face was burning. "He's gonna rip you to shreds. You hear me?" </p><p> </p><p>I looked up to see him walking away, waving a hand at me. </p><p> </p><p>"You fuckin' hear me?!" I yelled at his back, kicking my feet, "Johnny Silverhand is comin' for you, you stupid fucker! He's gonna <em> kill you </em>!" </p><p> </p><p>That was, of course, if I didn't get outta here and kill this fucker first. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you spotted the John Wick reference (because I'm not immune to thinking about him at least 10 times a day), well done! </p><p>Also, I promise things will work out! The angst is only temporary. </p><p>I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr, you can come and chat with me there or on the Cyberpunks discord server!</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Join here!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Got It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You guessed it! More Johnny PoV. I swear the chapters will go back to V eventually but... I know y'all are secretly enjoying his PoV as much as I am mwahahah</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>APRIL 23rd, 2078 / JOHNNY</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Watson, Little China :: The Afterlife … 6:03AM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shockingly, I did sleep. For what felt like thirty minutes, anyway. Spent all night curled up on that sofa-bed Rogue had set up in her office, holo in my hand. She'd convinced me not to look at it. I kept it nearby though, just in case V's captor took pity on me. I just laid there on my back, staring at the ceiling, listening to Rogue reach out to everyone she could. Give her her due, she wasn't letting up. Talking to everyone she could. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn't take the leather jacket off once. I was ready to bolt. It also smelled too much like V to even think about taking it off; she had more clothes than me so it was smothered on the rack between hers. I used to laugh at someone like her having such typical girly habits and tastes, but her soft, floral perfume was literally the thing that kept me going. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I woke up from my glorified nap, it was because something was wrong. Something felt fucking wrong - I shot up, and clutched at my face. The whole left side of it felt like it was on fire, but as soon as it came, it was gone. A scream echoed in my ears and my stomach churned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Anything?" I murmured. I knew Rogue'd heard me - I could feel her gaze burning into the back of my head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed, softly. "I'm workin' on it, Johnny. Please just go back to sleep." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I couldn't sleep. Fuck, I couldn't sleep, not now. Before it was hard enough, but the sound of V's scream was looping in my head. And the worst part was, I knew it wasn't a dream. Wasn't just a nightmare my fucked up head had concocted; the remnants of V's head in my own was torturing me. With flashes, bits and pieces. The violent pain in the back of my skull, in my face; ghosts of bruises on my arms and the tightness of my chest, shorted panicked bursts of breath. Except none of it was mine. It was all V, and while I only felt each thing for a second, it was her constant reality. She needed me. Fuck, she needed me, and I wasn't gonna sit here trying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If you've got something, anything - tell me." I tried again. Pleaded, really. I turned to face her, and she looked how I felt; tired, stressed, and annoyed to hell and back. She was handling it like a trooper, though. Trying to mask it, show off her strength. And she was pulling it off, like the queen she was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed, and sunk her brow into her hand. Gesturing vaguely at the desk, she said, "I've been speaking to fixers, informants, anyone who might know what's going on. Nothing solid so far, nothing good." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My throat felt dry as fuck. I dismissed it at first, thinking it was because of V, but it didn't fade away like the other gifts that cursed link was offering me. So I got to my feet and helped myself to Rogue's liquor cabinet, offering her a glass. She shook her head and returned to the screen in front of her. After a minute, she dialled a new number, and I was left to nurse my glass between my hands and stare at the wall. I contemplated going back to see Daisy, but just the thought of going into that dark apartment alone made me feel sick. Leaving Afterlife was a bad idea anyway, because at any minute, something could come up. Rogue could tell me she knew exactly where V was any second. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Obviously I didn't keep my hopes up. That would've been a new form of torture all on its own - a new and inventive style of self-harm I didn't think Torres had tried with Clank downstairs yet. I hadn't seen the Commander again all night, and I just hoped to fuck that he was actually being helpful. That he'd appear in Rogue's doorway and announce that Clank had spilled his guts, told him everything, gave him a location. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But still, no. I sat there and let the bourbon in my glass chase down hope. What was running through V's mind right then? Did she know I was coming for her? Did she know every fucker that had so much as looked at her was already as good as dead, and I'd rip them limb from limb in front of her for our mutual satisfaction? That I wouldn't stop until she was back where she belonged, barking her orders at me and bickering with me over the right to the driver's seat. Giving me that little smile that made me forget about all the dumb shit. Kissing me like I was the only goddamn guy on the planet, and fucking me like a crazed wildcat. And then she'd just lie in bed next to me - </span>
  <em>
    <span>our </span>
  </em>
  <span>bed - and smile again. Look at me like I was a guy worth something more than my name and a whole life of mistakes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know that look." Rogue said softly and I snapped my head up to stare back at her. She wasn't judging for once - just observing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What look?" I asked, taking another sip from my glass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're lookin' sadder than a puppy whose ass just got kicked." she was smiling, only vaguely. "You used to hide it better back in our day. When this same thing happened with Alt, you-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't wanna talk about Alt." I mumbled. The dark liquid in my glass was starting to look a whole lot more inviting, like I could drink the whole bottle. Thinking about my mistakes with Alt was one thing, and it was bad enough, but thinking the same could easily happen to V right now? I rubbed at my forehead, feeling the creases in my skin from my frown. I tried to loosen up but relaxing into a blank expression was harder than I thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"My point is, Johnny," Rogue continued, this time thankfully sidestepping around saying her name, "When that happened, you were angry. Violent, murderous. And yet now you're just… Mellow. Depressed, like you've already given up." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I haven't." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know you haven't. But it's refreshing to see even </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> can show some vulnerability." idly, she turned back to her screens, picked up a pen. Her voice was lower then, as if she was pretending to mutter to herself, "It's nice to see you care so much about something." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not this again." I sighed. The rest of the drink went down in one tip of the glass to my mouth. "Even I admit, I was an asshole with you. I didn't do it right. But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>right when I told you it's different for me and V. I…" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I don't know. What was I gonna say? I trailed off and left it hang in the air like that, groaning instead of trying to think about it too hard. I didn't need to get into this, not with my fucking ex of all people. But I felt her gaze on me again and I looked up, seeing a slightly puzzled expression on her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Holy fucking shit." she said with a little laugh, "You're in love, Johnny." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No I'm not." I denied immediately. Almost balked at how indignant I sounded, like the very idea was gross and girls had cooties. But saying shit like that was dangerous territory. It was deep, meaningful, important. As important as moving in together? Sharing cars, cooking dinner for each other? As important as being joint guardians of a goddamn puppy? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"For a guy who writes such powerful songs, you're really shit at actually expressing your feelings." Rogue snorted. "It's okay, Johnny. I won't tell anyone your filthy little secret." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Shuddup." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I refused to give it more thought. If I spent too much brainpower on it, I might've exploded. V was important, but… No. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not thinking about it</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Now wasn't the time for that; I wasn't gonna let myself admit it in case she didn't come back. In case I got there and she was… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But no - V was bait. Bait for me, for Rogue. They wouldn't kill their bait, they wouldn't be that stupid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After what felt like forever, the door to Rogue's office opened. It didn't do that for just anyone - she'd told me only a few people were authorised to just let themselves in and </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was not one of them. She knew me too well, knew that I'd abuse it just to come in here to terrorise her and mess with her stuff. I hadn't been given a full list of the special membership list, but I knew Claire was one. Torres and Weyland, too; both of whom were still here, ready to help out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instinctively I stood up when I saw Torres step into the office. I got whiplash and felt like I was transported to the barracks in Mexico, jumping up alongside the other recruits when he stepped into our tent. Except this time I was hoping for news a lot better than our drill schedule. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't get your hopes too high," he prefaced, holding up his hands, "But Clank shared some information with me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What?" I asked immediately, "Did he say where-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I said not to get them too high, Silverhand. You haven't changed a bit." he said with a sigh - like he was disappointed. I didn't give a shit. "The original plan, as I said, was to incapacitate both you and Miss Frazier. He was to then take you both to a specified location while his forces wiped out the remainder of the Claws." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And the exact opposite happened." Rogue said with a sigh, and when she saw my face, she explained, "Muto took it upon himself to </span>
  <em>
    <span>put down </span>
  </em>
  <span>the rebellion before it became a mutiny. An informant in the NCPD told me they turned up to a massacre." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I snorted. "So the Tygers do have balls." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And this location, Commander?" she pressed, leaning back in her chair. "Did he say where he was meant to take V and Johnny?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Torres - thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck! </span>
  </em>
  <span>- nodded. "He did." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm goin'." I said, whipping my iron out of the holster to check it was loaded. It was, of course it was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"She won't be there, Johnny," Rogue warned, "Clank was right about one thing - his bosses knew he was expendable so they won't have kept her in the same spot for long." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know." it settled back into my holster. "But I'm gonna find where they took her next. I'm not sittin' here waitin' for another lead." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rogue waved a hand at me, because she knew I wasn't changing my mind. "Commander, go with him." she said, and I groaned, "I'd go too but I need to stay in case one of my contacts finds something." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't need a babysitter, Rogue." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, but I know you. You'll be charging in guns blazin' and that's the last thing we need. Having Commander with you will mean you have a brain on your side." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I huffed. She wasn't wrong - solo gigs for me in the past had always been simple kill quests. I couldn't do anything tougher because that meant I had to plan, and I fucking hated planning. That was why on big ops, it fell to Rogue. Or nowadays, V. She was definitely the one in the pants and while my natural instincts usually kept my head on my shoulders, she managed to keep it there all on her own through sheer willpower. Without her to tug on my reigns, I was probably gonna butcher this only lead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Fine." I huffed. "Fine, fuck. But I'm killin' every bastard in there and you're not stoppin' me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Allow me to take whoever is in charge for questioning." he bargained. Negotiation, shit. He was good at this, almost as good as he was pretending like he didn't enjoy torturing info outta the poor fools on the other side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a little minute I just stared at him, biting hard on my tongue to stop myself from just yelling at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Only </span>
  </em>
  <span>them." I agreed eventually. He didn't even need to whip out the big guns - in reality he was right. It'd be a good follow up on our existing and only lead, and I wasn't gonna let my anger when I was there stop rational me from agreeing to logic. "But fuck, we can't take my car." I realised, "Not big enough to tie someone up in the trunk."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sounds like you've tried." Rogue said quietly behind me. I rolled my eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, just had one too many clown car incidents with the band." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Who was the poor gonk who got in the trunk-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I cut her off at the exact time she also, knowingly, said, "Henry." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That had been fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hilarious</span>
  </em>
  <span>. We'd gone out for the afterparty after a big gig - Kerry in passenger seat, Denny and Nance in back. Henry had tried to sit on the roof but even I knew that was a dumb move, so I squashed him into the trunk that was just way too tiny for a human. Could still hear Denny lecturing me, telling me to just leave the sad sop behind. I remember telling her to consider fucking off if she cared that much and I definitely didn't earn any brownie points with anyone there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, maybe my memory was a bit clouded - maybe it wasn't as good as I remembered. I started drinking and argued with Kerry over some shit I couldn't even remember. Got us thrown out after we started throwing punches. Pretty sure I'd broken his nose - he'd obviously had it fixed since. Eddies meant cleaning up Johnny's mistakes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sat on the cold curb outside afterwards while everyone had their go: </span>
  <em>
    <span>why'd you always gotta fuck it up, Johnny? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Or </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck's your problem? </span>
  </em>
  <span>My favourite had been Denny's, </span>
  <em>
    <span>You're a fucking nightmare</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And then they'd left me there to go have a party of their own without me - or to take Ker to a hospital, one of the two. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Henry, fucked-in-the-head Henry, had tried to make a habit out of contorting himself into my trunk because he'd thought it was as hilarious as I did. What did that say about me? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's quite alright." Torres said, "I can drive us. We can take my vehicle." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cursing, I realised how many times I'd just willingly agreed to his suggestions so far. Damn it, V. Rogue wished us luck and I followed the Commander out of the back rooms and into the eerily silent bar. Place was completely cleared out, neons turned off in place of overheard strip lights. They were weak as all hell though, so it wasn't that much better than the gloom broken up by the usual green glow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We climbed the stairs back out onto the street and I groaned into the early-morning light. I pulled my aviators from where they hung from the neck of my t-shirt to stand a chance at not blinding myself. Was still not quite warm either, so I tugged on the collar of my jacket round my neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Commander had been fucking modest by calling his ride a "vehicle." It was a monster. Looked like a Militech truck, all-black matte chassis that definitely wouldn't bend if another car drove into it, never mind my fist. Blacked out windows, shields over the ones in the back. Massive, tough wheels too. Somehow, it was completely inappropriate and perfect at the same time. Like no one would think twice to look at a mysterious black car, but it stuck out like a sore thumb in After's lot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hop in." he said as its lights blinked alert at his presence. I headed round to the passenger side, endlessly curious as to what a beast like this handled like, but got in without argument all the same. The inside was just as predictable and somehow surprising at the same time. There was a bobble-head of a girl in a coconut bra and a hula skirt stuck on the dash, and it took everything in me not to laugh at it. Black leather chairs, fancy chrome steering wheel. The back of the truck was completely grated off like a prison van - also not a shock, but still a bizarre custom choice. Like he made a habit of this sorta thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"This your gig, then?" I asked, jerking my head at the back, "Nabbin' people?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Torres settled beside me in the driver's seat and slammed the door. "Your tone implies you don't approve." he said thoughtfully, and started the engine. It roared to life like a goddamn bear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shrugged. "I don't give a fuck. Just asked." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He huffed a sigh. "Then yes," he nodded, and settled his hands over the wheel, "I </span>
  <em>
    <span>nab </span>
  </em>
  <span>people. I am good at it, and it's reasonably good money." then he eyed me. "Belt, please." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you kiddin' me?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I looked over at him and he was indeed </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>kidding. He'd strapped himself in before he'd even started the engine and I hadn't really picked up on it until right then. Sighing, I made a point to pick it up, stretch it out as far as it would go, and clicking it over my body. I managed to bat his hand away when he tried tightening it over my chest like I was a kid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The drive was thankfully fucking quiet. At least it was until we headed up into the north side of Watson, and he cleared his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And you?" he asked, and I wanted to groan. "What is it you do nowadays, Silverhand?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thank fuck he'd finally gotten it through his thick skull that Linder was on the patched breastpocket of a dead guy. Still, I didn't exactly want to have this conversation - it was a long, long story, and I didn't exactly want him thinking we were buddy buddy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But I gave him the short version: "Bolted from your squad of good boys, considered killin' myself, learned how to play guitar, started a rock revolution, tried to take down Arasaka once because they killed my output. Tried again, planted a nuclear bomb in their tower. Died. Woke up in the head of a hot chick, realised I was killin' her slowly, attacked Arasaka again, got outta her head, and now we're fuckin'." I glanced over at him beside me, and I don't know how he was managing to keep an impressively still poker face as he soaked it in. "That answer all your questions?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Absolutely not." his response was immediate. He took his eyes scandalously off the road for a second to look at me, check I was serious. "So you were existing in Miss Frazier's head this whole time?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nah." I ran a hand through my hair. I didn't really even know half the details, that was Alt's job. "I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> dead, for sixty-somethin' years. When I woke up, I was just as angry as I was when I died. Just full of hatred for everythin'. I tried to kill V when I first realised what was happenin', I didn't wanna exist at all, not even in someone else's head." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hummed lowly, thoughtfully. Why was I telling him this? This sorta shit was the kinda mistake I used to make. I'd confided in him in the past - worriedly shared my doubts about our cause with my Commander, risked reprimand. And he'd heard me out. Then he'd tried to be there to support me after what happened with Carlos, but by then I was jaded. Stopped trusting him because he worked for the corps that were slowly killing us, killing everyone - and he did so willingly, wanting to in fact. I couldn't trust him back then anymore than I'd trust that porcelain cunt Hanako Arasaka nowadays. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I am simply curious how you went from trying to kill a woman to being in love with her." was that - was that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>smile? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Was a long fuckin' process, I'll tell you that much." I grumbled. God, the way she'd used to make jabs at me just to push my buttons. The way I'd call her the worst things in existence, say the shittiest things, to get a rise out of her. She'd tried to punch me a few times only to hit the wall behind me and to think, that used to amuse me. But then she got worse - she got sicker, and her punches would've actually hit if she still wanted to throw them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There wasn't one pinpoint in time where I could remember just suddenly deciding I wanted to protect her, not hurt her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a little while we drove in silence. Then, fuck me, he spoke up again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You've changed." he observed. I almost barked a sarcastic, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you think? </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he carried on, "You've been through much to make you the man you are today, and somehow I find myself unsurprised at the part you're to play in Rogue's uprising." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now that was an opportunity just waiting for me to pluck at it. "And what about you?" I asked, crossing my arms, "What's your part in all this? I thought you were loyal to the corps." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He huffed. "Somehow I believe my tale might be even longer than yours, and we do not have the time for that." the indicator flashed on the dash as he took a right and bumped the curb. "You'd rather we spend time finding Miss Frazier than listen to an old man's stories, no?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn't even dignify that with a response. Just clicked my seatbelt free and got out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What're we lookin' at?" I asked, looking up and down the street. Was quiet, dingy, walls covered in obscene graffiti. There was some distant radio playing music, but I couldn't make out what it was from here. Sun was starting to creep right up into the sky now, but the tall buildings either side of the street left us in shadow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"This building, here." Torres nodded at the old block in front of us as he rounded the car. "Derelict, should by all rights be demolished. Unsafe and abandoned, just how our friends like it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We'll look at every floor." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded. He hauled an assault rifle over from his shoulder, and headed to the door. When I'd drawn my own iron, he kicked the fucking thing down like there was nothing to it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I half expected it to be empty, but Maelstrommers were actually inside. None of them survived the first spray of Torres' bullets. They dropped like flies, and he beckoned me in. It was a weird as fuck experience fighting alongside him again as we cleared the floors - with every goon we took down, three more crawled outta the woodwork. Still, even if he was old, he definitely knew how to handle himself. And the military training I'd had under his command seemed to be creeping up on me the longer we fought. Like just being with him kicked instincts is forgotten back in place; I'd back him up, wouldn't take the usual risks I otherwise might've, was patient and precise. We systematically cleared each room, the Commander leading with me as his support. It had been a long time since it had been any other way than me charging in first. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Excellent work, Silverhand." he congratulated when he'd expertly disarmed the one barking the orders, twisting their arms up behind their back - he already had cuffs ready. "Your style has changed considerably, but still as effective as ever." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I snorted. "Style - bitch, this ain't an art form." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How one handles themselves in a firefight may as well be. Whilst yours nowadays might be a little more… Dramatic, your technique is still as impeccable as it was when you were young. I always told you had potential, did I not?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a painful roll of my eyes, I went to check the room out. At the back end there was a door - beside which the wall had collapsed in anyway, so I didn't even bother with the handle. Stepping over the plaster and support still holding in place, I glanced around the dingy little space. Tiny room, single light overhead, but from here there wasn't an ounce of natural light from the windows in the other room. There was an old chair in the middle, knocked over on its back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What the fuck was that on the floor? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crouching, I pulled it up by the loose cables at the back. Turned it round in my metal fingers, tilting low to see what the fuck I had a hold of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I dropped it out of shock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the vision I'd had earlier made sense; V's scream was looping in my head again, and the burning, ghostly pain I'd felt tingled under my skin. Her little red Kiroshi Optics implant rolled away under the seat of the old metal chair, and I forced myself to breathe slowly. In and out, in and out. Otherwise I might've been sick - or charged out and shot Torres' prisoner between the eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"They kept her here." I said when I came back to the main room. The gonk at Torres' feet was old cold now - bastard should be happy he'd been knocked out, or I would've enjoyed beating the living shit outta him. "I just-" I cleared my throat, it felt dry, "I found an implant of hers. Her eye." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked at me very seriously. Sympathetically. I refused to look at him, I didn't want it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Let's get outta here before I burn it to the ground." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I let myself into the truck before he'd had even made it to the ground floor with his prisoner over his shoulder. Got into the seat, slammed the door. Gave myself a split second chance to try to cool off before giving in - and screamed. Top of my lungs, loud as I fucking could until my throat burned and my chest ached. When I was done I only felt slightly better; a miniscule weight had been lifted off my chest. I was silent as the driver side door opened, and the Commander climbed in beside me. I knew he'd heard me, no fucking way he hadn't. Whole street might've. So he'd just waited for me to finish yelling in his car like it was a private affair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the way back, he didn't try to talk to me. Good. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rogue was waiting for us behind the bar of Afterlife when we went back in. The Commander gave her a curt nod, and hauled his new buddy right on through and no doubt down to Hades where he'd get his own special cell right beside Clank - so they could hear each other scream while waiting for their turn. I waltzed up to the bar, pretending as if there was nothing wrong and the sun was shining out of my goddamn ass. Sank into a barstool and felt like I'd melt if I didn't take off this jacket. But I couldn't, as if part of me was scared that if I did, V's smell'd wear off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead I took off my sunglasses and rubbed at my eyes. Tiredness was starting to creep up on me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What'd you find?" she asked, and met me at the bar. She'd taken my bottle down from the shelf, the bottle I'd wanted to take down for myself weeks ago when I first saw it. It had been on display between Samurai records in their original printed packages. She didn't even let me try to argue as she poured us a glass each, and slid one towards me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Maelstrom were there." I said idly. Suddenly I was glad Rogue had poured me a drink, because I needed to taste the burn on my tongue before I could say what I needed to: "V wasn't there, but her eye was." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Fuck." Rogue cursed, sucked in a sharp breath. "Her eye?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Kiroshi Optics Mk. II. Red iris." the words left me immediately, describing the image I could picture in my mind. I wanted to see her with those eyes looking at me but I couldn't conjure it - only the image of her eyeball dangling between my fingers. "They'd plucked it out and left it on the floor."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It ain't like Maelstrom to waste parts." she said thoughtfully - painfully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"They just wanna hurt her. Hurt me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hummed an agreement. She let out a sigh that was as heavy as my limbs felt, and threw her head back to down her glass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Bastards." was what she decided upon. She licked the drink off her lips and looked at me. "Fuck peace. Fuck Maelstrom. When we find them, I want you to tear them apart, Johnny." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Was already gunna." I finished off the rest of my own, slamming it back down on the bar. "But thank you for your blessing, your Majesty." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A thought occurred to me while we sat there in silence, though. A passing one that had me frowning, staring at Rogue long enough that she noticed and scowled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just wonderin' why you're helpin' me." I shrugged, "You don't like V." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I like V." she argued immediately, setting her hands firmly on her hips. "She's a good kid, got plenty potential. Plus, without her, no you. And you're important to this whole gig." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I cracked a grin. "I knew you loved me, Rogue." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I tolerate you." she corrected. "V doesn't deserve this. I'm not about to stand by and let this go down - she didn't survive that bullshit with you in her head just to die at the hands of some gonks now." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That I could drink to. So I did, grabbed the bottle, poured us a second round, and we clinked them together. She hefted herself up over the bar and I followed after her as we returned to her office; she seated herself behind her desk, and I lingered at the other side to smoke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Besides." Rogue said suddenly after a few minutes of silence. I looked up, alert. "I'm not about to leave your baby to be parented by you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn't click for a second. My stomach did a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>flip - I nearly laughed when I realised what she was talking about. Daisy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The dog was V's idea." I offered in way of explanation, even if she didn't ask. Even if I didn't need to. I ground out the stump of my cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table besides my makeshift bed, and settled on the edge of it. "She had a dog the exact same when she was a kid. Daisy she called it. Her favourite flower when she was little were daisies, she'd never admit it - too girly - but she's still crazy obsessed with them."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sipped from my glass. And then I kept rambling, like my tongue couldn't just sit still. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Y'know her hairbrush is shaped like a heart? She leaves it on the bathroom counter and her hair gets fuckin' everywhere. Worse than yours, I swear to God. Brushed my teeth once and got one of them tangled between my two front teeth, was the worst goddamn thing ever." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wasn't listening to me, I knew. Not fully - I glanced up and she had an idle little smile on her face, but was caught up in what she was looking at on the screen. I huffed a sigh, sunk back down against the couch-bed. Maybe I'd catch a few Z's. My gut was all curled up at the idea of resting, but if I was gonna be of any help to V, I needed my strength. I sighed, tried to steady my breathing, and conked out without another word to Rogue. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>APRIL 23rd, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / ??? … ???</b>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I woke up to an even colder floor than the air of the room I'd fallen asleep in. Was bumpy too - jostling me about this way and that like I was moving… Like I was in a… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mother</span>
  <em>
    <span>fucker</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Groaning, I tried to sit up, but couldn't manage it. Not when the ground was shaking beneath me and my head was spinning. At least this time to knock me out they hadn't risked further concussions - just pressed some foul smelling shit to my face and suffocated me with it. Stink was still clogged in my nostrils, made it hard to think straight. Plus, bastards still had me tied, like they were afraid I'd be able to hurt them while I was sleeping. Couldn't feel my fingers anymore with how tight my wrists were sandwiched together behind my back. But a lack of circulation was the least of my concerns. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My eye was gone, but that wasn't the end of the world. Could still see out of the other, and it had hurt like a bitch, but so long as I kept it closed to make sure no dirt got in it, it was an easy fix. Was just a pain in the ass trying to see anything with a black dot covering half my vision. Also meant the scanner was fucked; if I tried, it'd glitch harder than Johnny ever had and sent a jolt of pain through my head. My head which was already aching because of the first crack they'd taken at me when they'd managed to get the drop on me that night. How long ago was that? When was the last time I'd seen Johnny? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn't matter. Not when I knew he was coming for me, and I'd take great pleasure in watching him tear his way through the fucking idiots that thought they could pull something like this on me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But this would pose a bit of a problem. I had been unceremoniously dumped in the back of a van, tied up like a limp hunk of meat and gagged so I couldn't complain anymore. Was sorta glad for it, because it meant I couldn't get cocky and risk getting my tongue cut out too. That would be harder to fix than an eye. It was just laughable, really - they thought they had me cornered, they thought they had me </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Because their big boss man had made me squeal by pulling out an eye. It had hurt yeah, hurt like fucking hell. But if they thought that was enough to break me, they had another thing coming. I wasn't gonna be docile and well-behaved. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like I demonstrated before they'd knocked me out. I'd heard whispers outside the tiny room they'd kept me in, panicked, "Silverhand's comin'!" and I'd fought my little heart out to keep them from taking me. But two chromed-up Maelstrommers had been enough to pin me down and knock me out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So taking me who knows where would make it tough for Johnny. If he had a brain in that thick skull of his, he'd have gone to Rogue for help - he knew what she was capable of, he'd said it himself; she had contacts, resources, power. Most important, she'd keep his head on right. As much as I'd love to see him torch a place to be a gallant knight in shining armour, if he wasn't thinking right, he'd burn me up in it. And I didn't know exactly how he felt about it, but I sure as hell didn't wanna die after everything we'd been through to survive this long. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The van jostled over a bump and it made me land a bit too hard on my elbow. Fuckers. God, if Johnny didn't immediately let me loose to kill this lot myself, I'd punch him. Then kiss him and fuck him like I'd never get another chance to. I missed him. I missed that asshole and his smarmy, shit-eating smirk. His dumb jokes and all the hundreds of different ways he looked at me. I don't know how long it had been but it didn't matter, because it felt like it had been weeks. Months even. We hadn't been apart like this for so long. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My head was a mess, but that didn't mean I couldn't try. As the van slowed to a stop, and the doors at the end opened, I tried to concentrate. Let myself be limp and well-behaved, let them haul me up and out, over one of their shoulders. I tried to focus so goddamn hard - my brain felt like it was on fire but it was my only shot. I stared at the licence plate of the van and chanted it mentally like it was the song I taught myself to remember the months of the year. Those little combination of numbers and letters imprinted themselves in my skull like a red-hot iron, and I could only pray that Johnny could see it, no matter how frail or distant the link felt right now. It almost felt like there was nothing there at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guy carrying me was no smoother a ride than the van had been. He was hurrying to get me out of sight and into whatever building this was, I couldn't see. A warehouse, maybe? It was big and empty, and the sound of a shutter door closing echoed behind us once we were inside. For being the first course of torture, the guy had really made it a problem for me by taking my eye first. Was so hard to see anything, to recognise what was around me without feeling like I was gonna be sick. I should've fought against them, wriggled, kicked him just to be a pain in the ass. But I didn't have it in me; I just squeezed my only eye closed so I didn't see the world swaying around me and just hoped he'd put me down soon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When finally I was given a chair - tied down to it, of course, why wouldn't I be? - it was no comfier than the last one. But it was better to sit still than be jostled around all the time, so I'd take even small comforts right now. I pretended to be asleep still, or drowsy. Wouldn't respond when goons tried to speak to me, only let them give me water. Tasted like shit and had to have their grubby hands on my face, but it was better than the burning in my cracked throat. I drifted in and out, in and out. Sleep came easier to me now more than ever even if the circumstances were gut-wrenching; what else did I have to do? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I'd hear bits and pieces of conversation between my naps - whispered like they were afraid to give me hope. Joke's on them. Motherfuckers hadn't pulled out my hearing implants. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"...another one went dark." one gangoon said to his bud in a hurried, low voice. He sounded scared, good. He should be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His friend should've gulped. "Already? Fuck, he's fast. Psycho - there's no way he'll get to us, though." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you sure? He found that last base even though it was hidden, like how the fuck-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He's got the Queen of the Afterlife on his side, dumb fuck. She's got her nasty little fingers everywhere." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So why didn't we take her instead?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"God, you really are new. Don't say that sorta shit on the streets, got it?" the older one, probably more experienced, warned, "You fuck with </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> and you're dead." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Then why-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Stop talkin'. Boss' got things lined up you wouldn't even understand." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Last I checked, the boss of Maelstrom was still Brick, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>owed </span>
  </em>
  <span>me. I'd saved his goddamn life, and took out his only competition, Royce, in one fell swoop with Jackie at my side. So either he took this bike situation with the Tygers maybe a little too seriously, or there'd been a change in management. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A new boss who didn't like the idea of being under Rogue's thumb. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My legs were numb next time I woke up. This chair was falling apart, creaked every time I fidgeted, but that wasn't a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad </span>
  </em>
  <span>thing. With the right bit of pressure slowly but surely, the thing would snap. I just had to wait for the right moment to free myself. And then I'd only hope that the bar under my thighs digging into my skin wasn't enough to make me trip and stumble like a baby deer when it came to my grand escape. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a little prod at the back of my head. At first I thought some fuck was messing with me, but I hadn't heard anyone come in - I turned round and there was no one there. Anywhere. I was in this huge empty room all by myself. Then I felt it again, and even if my head hurt, I felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>stronger. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At my feet was a little strip of paper. It hadn't been there before - I squinted, desperately tried to read the tiny writing on it. Then I blinked and it was gone. Poof, completely missing like it hadn't been there at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But I'd seen it. I'd fucking seen it - recognised Johnny's hasty scrawl. Seen the two little words he'd written for me: </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>got it</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A little shorter than most of the other chapters, but I hope you enjoyed regardless! </p><p>As always, I'm  <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr, you can come over and chat with me about Cyberpunk or pop an ask into my box if you have any questions or thoughts about the fic! Or pop a comment down below letting me know your thoughts on where this story is headed! </p><p>I'm also pretty active in the Cyberpunks discord, which you can join <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">here!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. tick tock v</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry to have kept you all waiting! Here it is, the chapter I've had a bit of a nightmare over the past few days lol</p><p>Trigger warning for some vague body horror towards the middle, nothing too descriptive but enough maybe to make some squirm.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>APRIL 26th, 2078 / JOHNNY</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Watson, Northside … 11:03AM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>I clicked back the safety on the beast called the Malorian Arms 3516 in my hands, and followed after the Commander's lead. I was getting too used to this game, this same old routine. Rock up to a site, roll out the big guns, decimate everyone but the little ring leader, and back to the Afterlife in time for Rogue to have dug up nothing. </p><p> </p><p>It had been three days. Three <em> fucking </em>days. After the first day, with V still missing, I gave in and headed home for a shower, a change of clothes. A cuddle with Daisy where I'd promised to bring her mom home soon. She'd just stared at me with those big doe eyes, and let out a sad little whine. I couldn't take leaving her there all on her own, so I brought her back with me to Afterlife. Got a fair few fucking stares as I walked in with something so obviously under my jacket, but I didn't give a shit. I'd set her up cozy in Rogue's office, much to her distaste. "I'm allergic to dogs, Johnny," she'd tried, but I hadn't heard so much as a fucking sniffle from her the whole while. </p><p> </p><p>In between biz as normal, people noticed V's absence. Questions started trickling in - Claire came in at the end of a shift to tell us what was being passed around the bar, any potential rumours. They'd all been dead ends; I'd checked every single lead myself, to find something completely unrelated or just yet another Maelstrom hangout. Still, mercs started coming up to me in After, trying to offer me info or their aid in tracking V once the secret somehow got out that she was missing. Of course, it wouldn't be for free. Some big-balled nobodies trying to profit off me, as if they'd do anything more than I would. </p><p> </p><p>So somehow I'd fallen into a routine. Fall asleep on Rogue's couch with Daisy curled up on my chest, or tucked into the crook of my elbow. Wake up to her on call to an informant, or shoving a cup of coffee in my face - "You look like shit." Go track another dead lead. Come back. Maybe go on another. Come back. Sleep. </p><p> </p><p>The whole while, no messages came through from "V." Her captor was enjoying this game of cat and mouse too much, forcing me to dig up every last root. But he was only delaying the inevitable, really. I'd find him eventually, and I'd tear his skull outta his goddamn mouth. The things I was gonna do to him when I got my hands on him. I was gonna enjoy every goddamn second of his last minute alive, inflicting every pain under the fucking sun. </p><p> </p><p>Then I'd never make that same mistake again. V'd never go anywhere on these goddamn streets alone; I could still vividly remember that night, the way she'd promised me she'd be fine. The way she'd pushed me down and stuck her tongue in my mouth, kissed me like we were alone. I could still feel the weight of her body, the squeeze of her thighs on mine, the press of her chest. Taste the fruity sweetness of her drink in my mouth. </p><p> </p><p>Idiot. Fucking idiot. Who the fuck walks round NC on their own, drunk, and armed with a flimsy goddamn pistol? </p><p> </p><p>I'd rolled outta bed that morning with Weyland peering over me. Scared the goddamn shit out of me but even worse, when I yelled, it startled Daisy - poor girl didn't stop yapping for ten minutes while Rogue gave us the rundown on the info she'd just gotten. I'd held the little pup in my arms the whole time like a whining baby, and Rogue looked like she didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or glare at me. A Tyger Claw - Rogue assured me one high up in this ganger food chain - had sniffed out the location of another Maelstrom front in the south-eastern side of Northside, bordering so close to Kabuki it was almost on Claw turf. I knew they wouldn't be so stupid as to hold V right on a ticking time bomb of a gang war. If a firefight started, and she got hit, they'd lose their bargaining chip, their bait. Still, I went anyhow, desperate to knock some heads and shake off that feeling of antsy hopelessness creeping up on me. </p><p> </p><p>We'd taken the Commander's monster of a car, and Weyland had come with us. He was insistent on being called <em> Squarma </em> ; "I look too much like me daddy, don't need to be bringin' his name down by me antics, y'know?" Still, I was gonna keep making that same damn mistake. He <em> did </em>look too much like his dad, and in the middle of a fight, I wasn't exactly gonna care about calling him by his fucking nickname. </p><p> </p><p>So there we were. We'd started whispers in the Afterlife; Johnny Silverhand, the Commander and Weyland Jr. slowly burning every bridge After ever built with Maelstrom. To anyone else, it would look like we were systematically targeting each base and razing it to the ground. We were but that wasn't the point; we weren't doing it for fun or just to piss off Maelstrom. But the smarter mercs out of the Afterlife rabble were starting to link the dots. It would only be a matter of time until no-named, no-brains waltzed into the first Maelstrom base they saw to demand for V's release - obviously in return for some reward from me or Rogue - and get her killed. I <em> had </em>to get there first. I had to find the right one. </p><p> </p><p>This spot was a little gun store only a block down from where Kabuki's legal borders began, so Maelstrom really were fucking risking it here. I waltzed in, glasses on, and rocked up to the counter. The employee behind it was idly checking some stock, so I waited; leaned on it and laid my metal hand out on display. When finally the girl came up to see to me, she saw the arm first. Then looked up to my face, and such a satisfying look of horror crossed with <em> oh-fucking-shit </em>was all over. Before she could even scramble for the gun beside her, I'd put a bullet in her skull. </p><p> </p><p>Now, I didn't know if she actually was Maelstrom or just a civ. Didn't matter because the bitch was working for them. </p><p> </p><p>When the Commander and Weyland came in after just like the plan had dictated, Torres tried to give me that same speech. I rolled my eyes and mimicked his yapping mouth with my hands, and gave him the excuse that, "She'd tried to pull a gun on me. You think she wasn't gonna shoot me?" </p><p> </p><p>So I smashed my fist through the control terminal for the door leading behind the metal-grated counter. Tugged out enough cables that the door beeped open politely for me, and scoured the counter for anything useful. Some ammo which I could use, sweet - pocketed that. Found some sort of key card which might come in handy, so took that too. Then stepped <em> over </em>the puddle of blood that was growing by the second to access the computer in the corner. Typical camera footage of the store from different angles on one screen, and various files, messages et cetera on another. Found the control for the back door and opened it up. </p><p> </p><p>Motherfuckers; Torres and Weyland didn't wait for me. </p><p> </p><p>So I charged on through, into the warehouse in back. Bolted past my <em> teammates </em> and broke through the little impasse they found themselves at, with a trio of gonks hiding behind storage crates. Shot the first one in the leg, ducked under the pathetic swipe of another. Grabbed his arm, bent it just a little too far in one direction and the gonk was whining like a little bitch. Put a bullet in the first one's head - still hadn't even gotten up - snapped the second's arm in mine. He stumbled into me just in time for him to soak the bullets of his third and final pal, who I promptly shot between the eyes. I thanked the gonk hugging me, and put him outta his misery too. </p><p> </p><p>There were a few more, but they didn't prove much of a challenge with Weyland and Torres now caught up, stealing my kills. Not ten minutes later, the place was wiped clean of Maelstrom trash. I sat outside, perched on the roof of Torres' truck, pressing the cold underside of my metal arm to a fresh bruise on my forehead. One lucky gonk had managed to add to my shitty collection of measly cuts and scrapes from the last few days. </p><p> </p><p>Was waiting for Torres and Weyland to bag their catches and haul them into the truck as Tygers rolled up. Their dumb cars, covered from hood to bumper in custom decals, though they were sleek, I had to give them that. Two of them, who screeched to a halt around the truck - as if they were being so bold as to assume they could stop us from leaving. The wheels on this thing would crush one of their fancy little cars easily. </p><p> </p><p>It was part of Rogue's offerings to the Claws to <em> strengthen ties </em>, whatever the fuck that bullshit meant. That Claws could swoop in and claim Maelstrom bases for their own. I'd worry more that the Claws were growing so fast, but hey, she was the Queen, not me. Plus, giving them this spot was a thank you to the guy who'd given us the heads-up on the location. </p><p> </p><p>"Silverhand." one of them greeted in a sharp and brisk tone. I inclined my head, groaning under my breath when I realised it was a mistake to move it at all. In the breast pocket of this jacket, the one I'd zipped up, held little painkillers. They were V's, left in her bag at home. Strong stuff, for her occasional headaches, but she wasn't exactly using them. So I popped one, sticking the little tub back in my pocket. My smokes case was heavy in the other one, but I didn't reach for it. For whatever reason, I'd been having them less and less the last few days. To open it up, see how many were left, felt weird. To not take out two every time I wanted one, light one for her. I shook off the thought and ignored the itch craving some nicotine in the back of my head. </p><p> </p><p>We went back to After, and Rogue tried insisting I should stay awake - "You might have a concussion, Johnny," she'd said. I shrugged off her concern, my jacket, and my holster. Slumped into her couch and barely even managed a smile when Daisy got up out of her bed to race towards me. Rogue was staring at me as I scooped the pup up onto my chest, but I didn't care. She'd been worried about me, for the first time in fuck knows how long. Thank fuck she hadn't brought up my relationship with V again, only talking to me about her in the context of leads. Hadn't talked to me about Alt either. No reminiscing about the old times. Just trying, in an uncharacteristically soft tone, to convince me what I was doing was unhealthy. That if I kept being careless and ignoring Torres' orders, I'd get myself killed before I could get V back. </p><p> </p><p>Was getting tired of her lectures. Was tired of Night City's bullshit. Didn't mind it when streetwise V was with me, laughing off the nonsense. I found it funny when the streets weren't messing with <em> me </em>. I found the obscure, bizarre beauty of this fucked-up town when I was playing its board myself. But when other players had stepped on in and fucked up my pieces, I just wanted to break the goddamn rules and fuck up theirs. </p><p> </p><p>Well, there was only one rule in this city as of late:  don't fuck over the Queen of the Afterlife. Wasn't breaking that right now. </p><p> </p><p>I woke up in the middle of the night with a series of numbers just burning in my goddamn skull. After was already cleared out - music off - so I assumed it was early morning; I'd gotten used to falling asleep with thumping bass as my lullaby. Daisy stumbled down from my chest into my lap as I jostled upward, scrambling to my feet. Rogue's head snapped up, she jumped up from her chair. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, it's okay!" she said hastily, "No one's gonna-" </p><p> </p><p>"I need somethin' to write on. Paper, notepad, anythin', quickly!" </p><p> </p><p>She didn't even ask. She just gave up her attempts to console what she thought was a nightmare-ridden Silverhand and rummaged through her desk. Found an old sheet of paper that looked like some sort of receipt or order information, turned it over flat on the desk. Handed me a pen. </p><p> </p><p>I scribbled out the numbers in my head, and as soon as I did, I breathed out. </p><p> </p><p>"Clever girl." I chuckled, unable to keep the relief in. She'd done it - V'd given me exactly what I needed. A proper lead, a proper breadcrumb. My heart started to pound at the prospect of following it, chasing it up, seeing exactly where it went. Oh, those motherfuckers were gonna bleed. </p><p> </p><p>"What's that?" Rogue asked, coming to stand by my side to read off the paper. </p><p> </p><p>"A licence plate. Of a van? A truck? I don't know, didn't see much." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> See </em>?" she repeated, a little skeptically. I looked at her to see her quirked brow. </p><p> </p><p>"V, she showed me. Part of her is still up here, remember?" I poked a finger against my head, "It's probably the only goddamn unique thing she's seen the last few days other than walls and floors. Run that number wherever you can, Rogue, it'll lead us to her." </p><p> </p><p>Her skepticism immediately cleared in the face of an actual, solid lead. Or at the very least, a new avenue to look down. Her face hardened and she sat back down at her desk - in her goddamn throne. Queen of the Afterlife, back in her element, pulling on contacts and favours to find whoever the fuck was driving that van. It was a long process; I paced her office sipping at her expensive bourbon while she phoned friends, scoured through new info on her monitor, waited for visits from contacts who'd come to her door with potential new threads. Daisy walked back and forth with me for a while, probably thinking we were going for a walk or playing. Then when she got tired and curled up in her bed, I sat down too. No use in burning a hole in Rogue's floor with my heels. </p><p> </p><p>Just when I almost fell asleep again, Rogue stood up. </p><p> </p><p>"Right, come on." she said abruptly, "Contact in the NCPD has footage throughout Northside they're gonna let us see." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh, 'cause the NCPD just love to help mercs like us out with this sorta shit." I sarcastically grumbled but stood up anyway. Crouched in front of Daisy, gave her a pat on the head, "Be a good girl, alright? Daddy won't be gone long." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue grunted in disgust. "You actually make me sick." </p><p> </p><p>"Come on, you can't tell me she isn't growin' on ya." </p><p> </p><p>She ignored me and we made our way through After side by side. The situation was so wildly different but part of me couldn't help but feel weirdly nostalgic. Like I'd been kicked back in time, to the Atlantis; back to when me and Rogue were a thing, we were partners. For as long as she'd had patience, anyway. I hadn't given her much reason to hold out hope for me. I hadn't given that to anyone. The people I considered my friends hated my goddamn guts and couldn't hide it no matter how much they tried. And it had been my fault, no one else's. I'd been so caught up in my own head, my own fucking thirst for something more than the hollow anger I was consumed by. </p><p> </p><p>I'd started a fight in Atlantis once. Couldn't even remember what it was over - one of Rogue's buddies had said something to me I think. One of them had the balls to call me out on ghosting her, or saying something dumb; equally could've been me <em> doing </em>something dumb. Punched him in the nose. He punched back, just as hard. And then his chooms backed him up and I got a beating, like I'd deserved. Rogue'd come out in time to see me getting my ass battered, and called them off. She'd sat on the curb with me in the cold air outside, asked me if I was okay, why I'd even been stupid enough to punch him in the first place. And I didn't have any answers. Just sat there, staring blankly at the ground, wondering what the fucking point was. Why I was still walking this goddamn planet, why I was dragging my heels through every day. She'd gotten impatient waiting for an answer and I'd snapped. Told her to fuck off to her pals and leave me in that gutter where I belonged. </p><p> </p><p>"You're hopeless, Johnny." she'd said, so full of anger and hurt that if she'd exploded, I wouldn't be surprised if she'd killed me herself. "I'm so tired of your bullshit! I'm done - <em> we're </em> done. You're a lost fucking cause." </p><p> </p><p>That night I'd contemplated putting a bullet through my skull in that alley. It would've been so easy - one pull of the fucking trigger. Could've caused one last problem for the people I loved. </p><p> </p><p>But I'd backed out. I'd been a coward, couldn't do it. Couldn't fucking manage it, couldn't do it. Couldn't. My hands had shook, I'd dropped the gun in the puddle at my feet, let my tears look like the rain pouring on my head. I'd wanted fucking <em> anything </em>to put an end to the emptiness. </p><p> </p><p>And not a few nights later at a concert, I'd met Alt. I thought it'd just be a fuck, a distraction to get my mind off what had happened with Rogue. Someone to keep me company while I figured out how to mend the bridge I'd set on fire with her. But she'd stayed with me, talked to me - watched some shitty movie with me and having her round helped me forget for a bit. Helped me forget that fucking hole just lurking there in my chest where my heart was meant to be. If I didn't hear it in my own voice when I screamed on stage, I would've thought I didn't even have one. </p><p> </p><p>Then of course that went to shit too. I think something in me cracked that first charge on Arasaka Tower we'd pushed. Something just… Went. A screw'd come loose and it just kept turning and turning and turning until 2023 when I wrote that manifesto, set a fucking bomb in that godforsaken tower. </p><p> </p><p>I'd had a long time to mull it over since. It hadn't done shit to bring back what I'd lost, and it didn't do shit to topple that looming monument to greed because Arasaka kept on thriving. It had just killed people, innocent people, who got caught in the crossfire of my rampage. Realising I'd been given a chance to make even an attempt at amends for the unforgivable shit I'd done, I'd managed to find a way to reseal that part of my head, the part that had snapped, that couldn't be fixed. A new screw; different fit, a little smaller than it used to be, but it slotted in fine. Wound me up, didn't wanna let me go again. </p><p> </p><p>That screw was V. </p><p> </p><p>If I lost that screw, well… I shuddered to think what would snap this time. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue drove us to the Little China precinct. Felt gross as fuck walking in, weirder still that they'd just let us. There was <em>no</em> way every single piggy in there didn't know our faces. Yet no one stopped us, no one tried. Rogue spoke to the strangely-bubbly middle-aged woman at reception, who led us right through like it was nobody's business what the Queen and Silverhand were doing here of all places. Through the winding back corridors, between the offices and past the busy bullpen. Junior officers were racing round, phones were constantly screaming to be picked up. Reports of an assault here, a break-in there. Never fucking change, Night City. </p><p> </p><p>"In here, the technician will see you." said the jolly little receptionist. I realised why she was so happy the second she turned away and her mask slipped. She was on a goddamn breaking point, probably just like every gonk in here who'd sold their soul to the corps above. </p><p> </p><p>Except the technician wasn't alone. He was in his chair, already talking to someone else in the room. Tall guy, well-built, shaven head. I knew who he was before he even turned round. </p><p> </p><p>"River fuckin' Ward." I greeted, and got a look from Rogue. Ward turned to face me, a scowl immediately on his chiselled, pretty-boy face. Narrowed the one eye he had left, while the ugly little piece of tech in the other socket stared me down with a beady yellow glare. "What the fuck are you doin' here? Didn't you quit the force? Wait, no - <em> kicked </em>out." </p><p> </p><p>"Weren't you <em> dead </em>?" he spat back, crossing his arms over his chest. He sighed, shook his head, "I'm here same as you, I think. Lookin' for V." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh great, so even pigs know she's gone." </p><p> </p><p>"You're just as charming as V made you out to be." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted. "At the very least I charmed her pants off. Pretty sure <em> you </em> failed in that department." </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, enough already, fuck." Rogue had her head in her hand, and I rolled my eyes. Sighing, she crossed the room and held out her hand as a peace offering to River. "Rogue. I take it you're a friend of V's, then?" </p><p> </p><p>"I was, before she vanished half a year ago without a word." he said, and there was just a hint of spitefulness in his tone. Still, he shook Rogue's hand. "Kept an ear out since, just to make sure she's not dead. Then I got wind that she's missing, and I was fairly decent at missing persons cases." </p><p> </p><p>The urge to roll my eyes again was so strong. V had carried that whole goddamn case and without her, he'd have never found his nephew. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, this is Nick," Rogue introduced, poking her thumb at the guy in the chair. Glasses, bouncy brown hair, pasty pale like he never left the office. Got a huge-ass grin on his face when I stepped up. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm a big fan, Mister Silverhand!" he babbled, almost frothing at the fucking mouth, "I have all your albums, not old enough to have been at any concerts but-"</p><p> </p><p>"Nicky, c'mon. Head in the game here." River reminded, gently and patiently. <em> Don't roll your fuckin' eyes, Johnny </em>. </p><p> </p><p>"Of course! Sorry." Nick nodded quickly, spinning in his chair to face his monitors, "So I've been scouring the footage from the last few days for that plate you sent me, Miss Rogue."</p><p> </p><p>"You got a plate?" River interjected. </p><p> </p><p>She nodded, jerking her head at me. "Johnny did." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Johnny </em>did?" </p><p> </p><p>I opened my mouth: "Long story, not goin' into it-" </p><p> </p><p>"Him and V have some sort of… Telepathic connection." she helpfully explained. Fuck, she was tryna spite me. </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh," River crossed his arms again, scowling, "So you're still not outta her goddamn head." </p><p> </p><p><em> Yes, yes, yes </em>, time for a dig. "Trust me, I'm on it more than you are, lover boy." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck you, Johnny."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh trust me, she does." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue huffed. "Enough! Christ." her hands planted on her hips and she looked at the two of us like we were kids half her height, not double. "The way you two are behavin', you'd think you didn't wanna find V." she sighed, and turned back to the kid in the chair, "And? What did you find?" </p><p> </p><p>With a few taps at his keyboard, Nick pulled up some footage on the monitors. A handful of different camera feeds, following the journey of a duo of black trucks - plain black, no usual Maelstrom branding. It was early morning, maybe? I leaned on the back of Nick's chair and leaned in, squinting. Sure enough, I recognised that set of numbers at the back of the van at the back, and felt my blood starting to bubble. V was in there. In the back probably shoved in like cheap luggage. I tried not to rip into the leather of Nick's chair with my hand. </p><p> </p><p>"Where'd they go?" Rogue asked, being the one with the brains to keep her head. </p><p> </p><p>"Our footage covers up until near the old All Foods Plant." he explained, "Beyond that point in the south end of Northside, Maelstrom have trashed our cams. Haven't had the funding to replace them in ways they can't destroy them." </p><p> </p><p>"Been there." I said quickly, straightening up, "Cleared it yesterday morning. She wasn't there." </p><p> </p><p>"I didn't say they'd gone <em> there </em>, I just said they'd passed by there." he corrected. His fan-boy would stay in his pants so long as he didn't look at me, it seemed. If he stayed in his element and stared at his setup, he seemed to be okay. He tapped a few keys and pulled up more footage. "This is further up Riley Street, that main road headin' up through Northside? Nearer to Offshore Street. They took a right up there, see? Further north." </p><p> </p><p>I nodded and watched as they did exactly as he'd said. Again, the footage ended as they then took a sharp left at the end of the street. </p><p> </p><p>"That's, like, city bounds." River said thoughtfully, "On the edge of the oil fields. It's just power plants that far north." </p><p> </p><p>"But there were plenty of Maelstrom bases round there." Rogue tapped at her chin, "Johnny might've missed one." </p><p> </p><p>"If they're hidin' inside a plant, yeah," I admitted grumpily, "Torres wouldn't let me go in without cause, <em> there might be civs </em>." I finished the end with a shitty impersonation of the Commander's deep gravelly voice. </p><p> </p><p>River sighed, straightened up. Fucker was tall, nearly half a head taller than me. "Then we just retrace their steps and check every place we can 'til we find them." </p><p> </p><p>"Excuse me?" I snorted, "You wanna what now?" </p><p> </p><p>"I'm comin' with you. You're gonna fuck somethin' up, I'll be there to make sure it doesn't happen."</p><p> </p><p>"I like this guy." Rogue laughed, "Just don't expect to be gettin' paid." </p><p> </p><p>"'Course not. I'm doing this for V." </p><p> </p><p>Somehow I resisted the urge to repeat what <em> he </em>said in a stupid voice. He agreed to meet us at Afterlife where he'd no doubt stick out like a sore thumb - was excited to see how an ex-piggy handled himself in a place like that. Rogue drove us back and took me into that same planning room where I'd asked V for a good luck kiss a few hours before the convoy attack. I shook the thought off and got to work with Rogue, planning some sort of proper path in which to strike at each of the facilities in the northernmost reaches of Watson. They were edging on the oil fields where I'd once thought my body had been unceremoniously dumped, and I didn't like it one bit. Felt too much like fate for V to be there, so close to where she'd marked me a grave. I couldn't let her name join mine. </p><p> </p><p>"So by this point you have yourself a little strike team, Johnny." Rogue said with a little smile, and gestured to the little dots she'd dropped onto the map, each one a different colour. Mine was blue. "You'll be taking Squarma and the Commander with you as usual, and now, this Ward guy. I'm sure he can handle himself." </p><p> </p><p>I shrugged. "I guess. He's a decent enough shot." </p><p> </p><p>"Is he just mediocre or are you being mean?" </p><p> </p><p>"What do you think?" </p><p> </p><p>Rogue sighed, and her eyes flashed up to the door as it slid open. I didn't bother withholding my groan as River stepped in followed by Weyland Jr. </p><p> </p><p>"Found 'dis one askin' after ya, boss." said Squarma, nodding his head towards the guy who looked like he belonged literally anywhere else. Still, River was trying to maintain his usual tight-lipped casualness, folding his arms over his muscular chest. I bet he had a six-pack. </p><p> </p><p>Motherfucker. </p><p> </p><p>"That's fine, he's with us." Rogue greeted with a nod, and followed up with some introductions, "Squarma, this is River Ward, a friend of V's. He's gonna be helpin' us. River, Weyland - but call him Squarma." </p><p> </p><p>"Ah, good to know I don't gotta blow out ye brains." Squarma offered that award-winning, creepy-ass smile, and a hand. Ward shook it. </p><p> </p><p>"And where's the Commander?" </p><p> </p><p>"Down in Hades, no doubt, playin' wit' our friends." </p><p> </p><p>"Do I wanna know what that means?" River said cautiously, and Rogue immediately shook her head. </p><p> </p><p>"Best if you don't. Now, both of you, jack in." </p><p> </p><p>They joined us at the table, River giving me that stiff and curt nod in greeting. Couldn't wait til I had V back so I didn't have to deal with having this guy around - yet just another enticing thing to look forward to about having her back where she belonged. It was laughable really that he thought he still had a chance when I'd had an entire year by now to whoo V. And I had, successfully. Fully whooed her pants off, whooed her with my goddamn head between her legs. River couldn't say the same and he wouldn't so long as I was around. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, stop giving River a death glare and focus on the table, please?" Rogue drawled, and I huffed. Turned to the table as River let out a little snort. Maybe I'd punch him when I got V back, just as a little treat.</p><p> </p><p>We discussed various ways to go about it. How best to press onto each different facility or factory at the same time, so that it was impossible for Maelstrom to be ready. Problem was, there just wasn't enough of us to go around. We'd <em> maybe </em>be able to take a factory each in stealth, but that was risky as fuck, even I knew that. One of us got caught? Jig was up, and that one didn't have backup. They'd be dead and then the rest of us'd be sniffed out. </p><p> </p><p>"You got plenty of mercs out there," said River, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, "We just launch an attack from all sides. As many as we can get." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue snorted, "You're implying you don't know what a merc does. They do what they do for <em> money. </em>" </p><p> </p><p>"Then pay them. I'm sure Mister Silverhand can afford to." </p><p> </p><p>"Bitch, I was dead sixty years. You think <em> I </em> have money?" I asked dryly, running a hand through my hair. Yes, <em> hair </em> , something River had for some reason chosen to live without. V liked my hair, liked to get grabby. <em> Sucks to be bald, huh </em>? </p><p> </p><p>"We do have friends 'doe, boss." began Weyland with a hum, "Could call in some 'dem favours. Say it's a chance for 'dem to prove 'dey give a damn 'bout your revolution." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue was doing that thing. Holding her chin, squinting at the table. Calculating numbers, imagining outcomes, seeing herself in the circumstances. Trying to picture every way this could all end, depending on the choices she makes right now. She could call on the favours she'd owed, but that would be risky spending them all now on this one op. Plus, they'd all be cannon fodder, if they had any brains they'd figure that out real fast. Distractions, to keep Maelstrom occupied while we found V.</p><p> </p><p>Then there was the risk involved. If she went out into the bar and asked for a show of hands for volunteers, word could get out before we were ready. Someone could warn Maelstrom, they could move V again and then our only lead would be lost to us. It had already been three <em> fucking </em>days. I'd had enough. </p><p> </p><p>"Silly question, but you don't have any buddies up your sleeve, do you, Johnny?" Rogue asked. She folded her arms and looked at me like she knew what I was gonna say before I'd even opened my mouth. </p><p> </p><p>Surprise, bitch, I had something!</p><p> </p><p>"V is friends with a lotta people down in Heywood," I said, "Mama Welles, for example - she runs a bar with a lotta loyal customers, lotta loyal customers who're packin'. Also buddy-buddy with Padre Sebastian Ibarra - yeah, <em> that </em>Padre. The Valentinos guy." </p><p> </p><p>River gawped at me like a fucking limp fish. "You're not seriously suggesting we ask the <em> Valentinos </em> for help?" </p><p> </p><p>"Why not?" I shrugged, nodded at Rogue, "You've been lookin' for ways to draw in the other gangs, haven't you? Swearing you'll owe them a favour after they help the girl Padre basically raised sounds like a pretty good fuckin' way to get them on board." </p><p> </p><p>She didn't say anything at first. Just paced a little bit, the cable from her wrist to the table slackening as she went back and forth, back and forth. Was thinking the whole time, lips pursed. Then, she cursed. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, I hate it when you're right." she glared at me and I only shot back a charming grin. "I'll contact Ibarra, and I can only hope you're right about how much he cares about her. I'm stickin' my neck out here based on your word, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>"When has that ever gone wrong?" I asked innocently, knowing full fucking well it had gone wrong. Lots, and lots, and lots of times. Yet she was the one still stupid enough to trust me, and right now I was glad for it. If she had been smart enough to become resistant to my charm, then we'd be back at square one. </p><p> </p><p>I fidgeted, set my hands on my hips, and immediately realised that was a mistake. Tried not to show it, but Rogue definitely caught the flash of pain on my face. </p><p> </p><p>"You okay?" she asked cautiously, almost like she didn't want to know the answer in case it was bad. </p><p> </p><p>"Fine," grumbled, "Just this fuckin' arm. Get pains sometimes."</p><p> </p><p>They hadn't been too hard to deal with, but it was starting to happen more and more often. Just a jolt up my side, but worse than it ever had before I got it removed and put back. Viktor had warned me, and I'd known this was only a temporary fix, but I hadn't thought it would take this long to find V. I'd been cocky enough to think I'd have her back in our bed before the next sunrise. The pains'd come, linger, and then fade away with a ghost of an ache in my fingertips. I was starting to think they would never fade away. </p><p> </p><p>"Need a break, princess?" River asked, and any patience I'd been building up just instantly crumbled. I shot him a glare. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck off." </p><p> </p><p>So that'd be the plan; Rogue was gonna contact Sebastian Ibarra and ask him for the Valentinos support; the guys who were both good at what they did, <em> and </em>he could trust. It would be easy, clean. We'd start war with what was left of those fuckers and decimate them. I'd find V and sweep her off her feet. Then I'd invest in a padded safety storage box and move us in there. </p><p> </p><p>Wasn't gonna start thinking of alternatives. I'd find her, and this would be over. Wasn't gonna think of otherwise - couldn't. </p><p> </p><p>… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>APRIL 26th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / ??? … ??? </b>
</p><p> </p><p>I wasn't sure how, but they'd broken me. I swore they wouldn't be able to, that I wouldn't be a good little girl and play along, be the patient prisoner until I was sprung free. What had made me think I could push it? These guys were fucking Maelstrom, they didn't have <em> patience </em> least of all for their victims. </p><p> </p><p>So my chair was the only goddamn thing keeping me upright right now. Would've slumped on the floor if they'd let me. I was drowsy, felt like I'd be sick <em> and </em>lose consciousness any second, in either order. Most of the bile in my raw throat surged up when I looked down at my hand. My poor hand had taken a goddamn beating in all these years, my poor left hand. It was soaked, bloodied and battered. I had to look away as I gagged again; the little stumps where my fingers had been were still bleeding. </p><p> </p><p>Fuckers. Motherfuckers, fucking cyberpsychos. </p><p> </p><p>I <em> knew </em> what Maelstrom were capable of, this was the very least. They usually did so much worse. Really, this was ideal; they hadn't forced any fresh implants on me so matter how many times they'd joked about it, wondered how fun it would be to do this or that. Their boss had always called them off, but only so he could have his fun instead. He'd left me with one eye, just so I could see what he was doing to me. Ripped out my monowire implants fresh outta my wrists, leaving me with gaping holes with dozens of loose wires that was enough to make me sick looking at it. And then he'd wondered about what sorta tech I had in my head, almost gone after the biochip I still hadn't taken out. That motherfucker wasn't taking that off me - it was <em> mine </em>, it always would be fucking mine. </p><p> </p><p>So I'd distracted him. Told him how excited I was to get free - how much I was gonna enjoy ripping out his eyes and cutting out his tongue. Must've took it too far. </p><p> </p><p><em> "Can't rip out eyes without fingers, huh?" </em> </p><p> </p><p>I let out an ugly sob and squeezed my eye shut. I didn't wanna look at it anymore, feeling the residual pain was enough. How the fuck, after everything I'd seen, was I still squeamish? Especially at the sight of my own blood. But it wasn't the blood that bothered me so much. It was the twitch of muscles in my hand that no longer led anywhere, that no longer did anything. I thought it was bad enough when Adam Smasher broke the bones in this arm a few months ago. This - this was a new fucking level. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Come on, Johnny. Hurry up, Johnny. Please.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>That had been my mantra since. Chanted it over and over in my head, just praying he could hear me. I knew he was coming, he'd said so. I clung onto those two little words - <em> got it </em> - in his handwriting, that he'd scribbled in his haste to let me know he got my message. I'd try harder to reach him if I could but my head was spinning. Room wouldn't sit still if I opened my eyes, and I tried not to. Only made my headache worse when I had to strain to see anything with my only eye left. </p><p> </p><p>But knowing he was on his way was the only thing keeping me going. Got me through the unending ache in my hand, in my head, in the bruises and cuts all over. It kept me breathing, made me behave and ignore the snarky remarks from my captors. </p><p> </p><p>Then I got it - just a blink of a message. A single sign; the Malorian Arms 3516, handled by metal fingers. </p><p> </p><p>And a terribly loud explosion somewhere off in the distance. </p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck?" grumbled my current guard, who was peering round outta the door. I was trying hard to keep my breath steady, to focus through my pain. Watched his back, the way he uncomfortably shifted, the uneasy grip on his gun. </p><p> </p><p>Then threw my weight down on the back left leg of my chair. Just like I knew it would, it cracked and snapped under me, and it was enough for me to worm my wrists free of the arms. I didn't have long to act though - my guard heard it, it wasn't exactly a <em> quiet </em>racket. I charged at him, and he grunted as we hit the floor. Wasn't my most graceful moment, really, wrestling with the gonk for his gun. He elbowed me pretty hard in the gut, but I punched him in the nose, and it was a long enough recoil that I had time to grasp his gun and put a bullet in his head. </p><p> </p><p>I gasped for breath. Fuck, I hurt all over. And I was in a bit of trouble here - I was <em> left </em>handed, meaning I was gonna have to use my new handgun with my right. Still, the distant explosion had devolved into gunfire and yelling now, so that meant it wouldn't be long until he found me. </p><p> </p><p>Not if I found him first. </p><p> </p><p>Barely out in the corridor, I was spotted by two gonks at the far end. I ducked back inside the room as bullets flew by. Waited until they were done wasting their ammo, and peeked out. My bloody fingers slipped on the trigger but I managed to get a decently lucky shot, in one of their shoulders. She went down with a shriek, and I hid again before her buddy could fire on me. Then, I got him too when my next chance arose. </p><p> </p><p>I hurried over to make sure they weren't gonna get back up to fuck me up later. Shot them both dead, and realised I didn't enjoy it as much as I thought I would. I'd been thinking about how much I was gonna have fun killing every gonk in this building for what they'd done, but I just felt… Empty. Fucking scared. I just wanted this to end, to go home. </p><p> </p><p>And if I didn't fuck this up, I <em> would </em>be home soon. </p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>APRIL 26th, 2078 / JOHNNY</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Watson, Northside … 04:56PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>This wasn't anywhere near as satisfying as I wanted it to be. With every bullet I shot, every gonk whose neck I snapped in my hand, I didn't feel any fucking better. I <em> wanted </em>to enjoy this - to take sick, fucked-up pleasure in watching the life fade from their creepy red eyes, feel their bodies go limp in my grip. But with every death at my hands, I felt… Worse? More on edge? Like I knew I was running out of time. Every second that passed, every Maelstrom gonk we cut through, their boss was no doubt getting more and more desperate. </p><p> </p><p>And we hadn't found V yet. </p><p> </p><p>We'd cleared one plant - worked through its nightmarish maze of corridors, halls, rooms. Maelstrom were camping out there but the one Torres interrogated at the end of a knife swore V wasn't in that one. So we'd wasted time, lost a couple of Valentinos on the way. Padre had been glad to offer a dozen of his best men, and awaited news of our success. Alongside myself, we had a reasonable force; Weyland, Torres, River, and now only about ten Valentinos left. </p><p> </p><p>So we pressed on the next. The Commander had yelled at me to focus, to listen to his orders, and for V's sake I'd made myself do it. We needed to be fast, <em> faster </em>at least, but being hasty and risky was gonna do us no favours. It was made even goddamn harder when I heard V's voice, just so softly in the back of my head. Broken and tired. </p><p> </p><p><em> Please </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Not the sort of plea I wanted to hear. Never wanted to hear her say please for anything ever again. Not even when she was being polite to strangers, not even when we were in bed. Never again. </p><p> </p><p>The next gonk that made the mistake of coming close to me got my metal forearm pressed into his throat. Shoved into the wall, gasping for breath. </p><p> </p><p>"Where the fuck's your bossman, huh?" I demanded, and the little squeak he made should've been satisfying. "Where's my girl? Where've you got her?" </p><p> </p><p>"Not tellin' you shit!" he spat back. </p><p> </p><p>"Suit yourself." </p><p> </p><p>He crumpled at my feet with a new bullet in his brain. </p><p> </p><p>I went for the next one but a motherfucker stopped me. Tackled me to the goddamn ground before I could so much even reach the other side - was maybe a good thing River had crushed me or else the bullet whizzing overhead would've ended up in mine. Still, didn't want his help. Didn't want him here, didn't want him near V. </p><p> </p><p>"Get the fuck off me!" I shoved, and he went. Rolled off me and onto his knees beside me, glaring me down. Like that was gonna do anything - that sorta state probably would've scared a dozen gonks into confessions in the past, but me? Nah, it meant <em> nothing </em>to me. </p><p> </p><p>"What are you doin'? You're gonna get yourself killed." he snapped, "I bet V doesn't want you to die rescuin' her!" </p><p> </p><p>"I ain't gonna die-" </p><p> </p><p>"Good! 'Cause she went through too much shit for you, you don't even deserve to die now." </p><p> </p><p>I flipped him off and stumbled to my feet. "What the fuck do you know about what she went through for me?" </p><p> </p><p>"Enough to know you're a fuckin' sociopath!" he got up too, yanked me behind the cover of a nearby storage container. He tried to use his height against me, tried to intimidate me, but he was doing the opposite. Only making me angrier. "You don't give a shit about V! This whole thing is about fixin' your own ego, I'm not stupid!" </p><p> </p><p>"You don't know a goddamn thing. Shut your mouth before I shut it for you." </p><p> </p><p>"Go ahead. I'm sure V'll be so happy to know you killed me."</p><p> </p><p>"I think she'd be glad to know her fuckin' <em> stalker </em>is taken care of-" </p><p> </p><p>He punched me. Motherfucker <em> punched </em>me. Sent me stumbling into the storage crate with a loud crash, then over onto my ass. Fuck, I knew he had strength but that was a whole other level of power. My jaw ached, and any harder I might've felt my neck crack. </p><p> </p><p>"Get your head-" he growled, poking a finger at me, "-Outta your ass. Focus. V needs us." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck off. Go fuck yourself." </p><p> </p><p>So he did. Stormed off to put some bullets in the heads of Maelstrommers I would've preferred to kill. Still, my head was spinning a bit, so I took the time to try to cool off. To steady my pounding heart and focus, get my head on right. Despite him being a goddamn asshole, he was right. I was slipping again, taking risks, and V <em> needed </em> me to focus. <em> I </em>needed me to focus.</p><p> </p><p>I reloaded the Malorian in the lamest way I had in years; simple drop, click. None of my usual tricks and flourish. That was how easy it was to tell my mind was fucked in ways I didn't even wanna begin to think about. </p><p> </p><p>One last push. I'd have to stand up one last time and keep my cool long enough to have her back. </p><p> </p><p>When did I get so fucking soft? </p><p> </p><p>So I hauled my ass to my feet and caught up with the others. By then they were in a huge, open area of this facility, factory, whatever the fuck it was. Like a warehouse; massive vaulted ceilings, metal-grated walkways crossing over our heads. Plenty of massively-tall shelves to hide behind, old cargo and storage abandoned by Maelstrom. Old trucks dumped here and there, perfect cover. River and Torres were up front, leading the charge. I took up a spot by Weyland who gave me a big dopey grin when he saw me. </p><p> </p><p>I couldn't see how many we were up against, but we weren't able to push. Torres wouldn't let me take a risk like that to break us free of this little impasse, so I was stuck waiting. Waiting and ready to fire off a shot when I heard one from above us. My heart leapt into my throat - were those 'Strommers <em> above </em>us now? We'd be sitting ducks. </p><p> </p><p>But no - no I was <em> glad </em>to be wrong. </p><p> </p><p>"You're meant to be savin' <em> my </em> ass!" came the call from overhead, "Not the other way round!" </p><p> </p><p><em> V </em>. V! </p><p> </p><p>I didn't try to think of a witty comeback - just made the most of the opening she'd given us, and charged the Maelstrom barricade. Squarma came with me and had my back; between us we broke through, and cut down three of the bastards before they even realised they'd been distracted. Once the lot of them were dead at our feet, I looked up, and I admit - I've never been a religious man. But I swear I saw a fucking angel hanging over that metal railing. </p><p> </p><p>"You're never walkin' home again." I said firmly, poking a hand at her. She looked so fucking <em> tired </em>; battered and bruised, squinting with one eye just entirely closed over in a slump, covered in blood and fresh scars. </p><p> </p><p>"Never." she agreed, immediately. Somehow managed a smile, and then eyed up the rest of the guys round me, "You all came to rescue lil ol' me? I'm touched." </p><p> </p><p>River grinned, and set his hands on his hips. "Can't stay outta trouble, huh, V?" he called, and she did a quick double-take at him. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> River </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>It was petty that I felt myself pissed at the delighted tone in her voice. But I did - I wanted that smile on her face to be just for me. For the guy who'd barely slept the last few days, the guy who was in constant pain for the sake of saving her life. Not for fucking River Ward, who'd popped up conveniently when he could become a saviour. </p><p> </p><p>I spoke up again before he could open that mouth again. "Try to find a way down, baby," I called, enjoying the little twitch River made a little too much, "And <em> safely </em>, don't need you any more damaged than you are." </p><p> </p><p>"I'll come down when you find the fucker that did this to me." she promised. I nodded. </p><p> </p><p>"I'll find him. I'll rip his fuckin' eyes out." </p><p> </p><p>And I would. I'd tear them out of his skull and make him eat them, cyberware and all. The little flinch V made at the mention of any eyes at all made my anger flare and I didn't even know why - I just wanted her down here, <em> now </em>, where I could touch her. Lift her up into my arms and shoot any fucker that came near us. </p><p> </p><p>That would also include Ward. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, if you are insistent on finding their pack leader," said Torres, returning my focus down onto the lower level. He was approaching, Squarma at his side; our new Valentino buds were watching our surroundings. He adjusted the strap of his assault rifle over his shoulder, "We should move quickly. Who knows what state Miss Frazier is really in? We shouldn't delay in taking her to a doctor." </p><p> </p><p>"Do people really think I have one brain cell?" I snapped, "I fuckin' know. I already have her ripper on speed dial for when we get her outta here." </p><p> </p><p>River shrugged. "I mean, you don't exactly make it hard to imagine-" </p><p> </p><p>"Continue that sentence and I don't care if V is watchin', I will shoot you." </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny?" she called, as if she knew I was talking shit even if she couldn't hear me. Sighing, I turned to look up at her - she gave me a sweet smile. "Play nice, 'kay?" </p><p> </p><p>"Sure thing. Now get your pretty ass down here." </p><p> </p><p>And then, abruptly, we were plunged into darkness. </p><p> </p><p>A dozen loud clicks had the industrial strip lights overhead go out - so abruptly and suddenly my hand flinched at my gun and I had it gripped and ready to shoot any motherfucker who came close to me. Tried to remind myself though that right now, I was surrounded by allies. Kept my trigger-finger a little less happy and ready to fire. </p><p> </p><p>"V? V, you still up there?" I shouted, uncertain. Fuck, fuck, <em> fuck </em>. We were so close. Just let her say she was fine, just let her respond. But instead of hearing what I wanted to hear, I heard sounds of a struggle - of her yelling and struggling. Fuck this dark, I could've shot any motherfucker tryna hurt her. </p><p> </p><p>"She ain't goin' anywhere, fucker." </p><p> </p><p>Then the lights came back on. I hadn't taken Maelstrom for drama queens, yet there we were - surrounded, at least one ganger for each of us. We huddled into a circle, backs to one another, eyeing up our new competition. River was on my right, Torres on my left. We could've easily taken the gonks, if not for one very, <em> very </em>important fact. </p><p> </p><p>One of them had V. </p><p> </p><p>He was in charge, it was obvious from one glance. Didn't know his face, but he was burly and intimidating, face covered in shiny chrome. One hand, made completely outta thin, wiry metal - closed around V's throat. She was still trying to squirm, to free herself, but she was so tired. So weak. Barely had any fight left at all. </p><p> </p><p>And the other hand held a gun to her temple. </p><p> </p><p>She wriggled in his grip. "Let me go, you fuck-!" and couldn't even finish the sentence as his grip tightened around her neck. </p><p> </p><p>"Put down your weapons down now, chooms, and we won't have any problems here." he instructed, his voice a gross metallic gravel, "Do it or I'll blast out your little girlfriend's brains, Silverhand." </p><p> </p><p>"You wouldn't be so fuckin' stupid." I chuckled, "Pull that trigger and I won't let you die. I'll do so much fuckin' worse." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I'm so afraid." </p><p> </p><p>He barked out a laugh, and like a squad of properly trained circus monkeys, his gonks laughed too. Like a chorus. </p><p> </p><p>The Maelstrom leader grinned - showing off a full set of silvery chrome in his mouth. "Come on, Silverhand." he goaded, cocking his head to the side, "Tick, tock." </p><p> </p><p>My blood boiled. <em> Tick, tock. Tick, tock. </em>This was the motherfucker - this little shit had been the one, it was him. All of this was his doing. All of a sudden, the little panic that had built up in my chest gave over to anger. Gave over into the revelation that just unfurled itself in my mind. So I pulled the trigger. </p><p> </p><p>And shot V in the chest. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:O</p><p>I'll be working on the next chapter soon so you guys aren't hanging on that cliff for very long (hopefully!) In the mean time, I finally started writing those smutty chapters I promised, which are actually gonna be posted inside another fic called<br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28937679/chapters/71002134">Cyberpunk 2078: The Spicy Chapters</a>. So I offer that in ways of an apology for now until next time lmao</p><p>I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr! Come and hang out with me in the <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Cyberpunks discord server</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Missed You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry for the wait on that cliff! Here, let me pull you back up. </p><p>The smut chapter to accompany this one is on its way! Needs a bit more writing and a bitta polish and it'll be ready - if you're subscribed to the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28937679/chapters/71002134">spicy chapters</a>, you'll get a notif when I upload! If not, check back here later and I'll have probably edited this note to let you know it's up!</p><p>EDIT: it's out <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28937679/chapters/71239788"> there </a> for y'all thirsty thots to go eat up. </p><p>I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>APRIL 27th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Watson, Little China :: The Afterlife … 06:38PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>When I woke up, I didn't want to. I'd had a long, dreamless sleep. Deeper than I'd had in months, so much so that I barely understood what the fuck was happening when I came to. It was almost like I'd been gone for far longer than it felt. </p><p> </p><p>"Easy! Easy now, kid, take it slow." </p><p> </p><p>I groaned, and let the hand on my shoulder gently help me to a sitting position. Stuffed something behind my back so I could stay upright and I'm glad they did, because I would <em> not </em>have been able to hold my muscles still enough. They felt like jelly, or rubber bands ready to snap at any second. Took me a few minutes, but I blinked outta my stupor. Briefly, I forgot - and then panicked because of it - about my eye. But then it came rushing back, and I gazed around me with the one I had left. </p><p> </p><p>"Vik?" I had to ask because it didn't seem right. We were inside Afterlife; one of those back rooms I thought, with the dingy lighting turned low. Hardly anything remarkable, just an empty room with nothing much but a few pieces of tech, Vik's bag of medical supplies, and the mattress I was on. </p><p> </p><p>"Can you see me alright?" he asked, inching closer. Held up a hand, "How many fingers?" </p><p> </p><p>"Three?" </p><p> </p><p>"Good, that’s a good sign.” </p><p> </p><p>Viktor was sitting uncomfortably on the ground beside me, cross-legged. Different from his normal get-up of a button down and jeans; grey sweats, a plain white tank top under an old hoodie. Like he’d rushed not out of the clinic, but his own home, taken completely off-guard. He looked haggard, tired - even more tired than usual. </p><p> </p><p>“What happened, Vik?” I murmured, choosing to close my working eye, rather than stare at a hazy vision of him. </p><p> </p><p>“How much do you remember?”</p><p> </p><p>I remembered the explosion - breaking free, killing my guard. Killing his friends too, and anyone who got in my way. Anyone who tried to stop me from escaping. And then I stumbled out into a warehouse, up on a mezzanine where I could see everything going on below - a perfect angle to take a few lucky shots to give Johnny and his little team a chance to break out of their lock with the Maelstrommers they were taking on. Fuck, I knew he’d been coming for me, I knew it ever since I was taken. But seeing him there, tired and littered with fresh little cuts and bruises he hadn’t bothered tending to, in the jacket I’d bought for him, ready to tear through fucking <em> hell </em> for me… It had almost been more than my bruised heart could take. I’d been so relieved that it was over. It was finally over. </p><p> </p><p>But then the lights had gone out. A gonk had grabbed me - those same hands that had torn out my eye. Chopped off my fingers. A special kind of panic had taken over, I’d fought with all I had but it wasn’t much. I didn’t have much to give. And he’d held me like a fucking bargaining chip, tried to manipulate Johnny into giving in. Into bowing down. </p><p> </p><p>And he’d shot me. </p><p> </p><p>“Johnny, he…” I wet my lips, almost afraid to say it in case it wasn’t true. In case I’d seen wrong in my delirium, even though the bullet that had hit me, winded me - the bullet I could’ve sworn <em> killed </em>me hadn’t come from the gonk with a gun to my head. It had come from below, where Johnny was watching, with his gun already aimed for the guy behind me. </p><p> </p><p>“In all honesty, what he did was a smart move.” Viktor said with a huff, like he hated saying it. “He knew about your panic program, V. So he called their bluff, shot you in a way he knew wouldn’t be lethal. I’m sure it still hurts like all hell to know he did, but once you were lights out the Maelstrommers lost all interest.”</p><p> </p><p>Motherfucker. I groaned and heaved my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. I’d really hoped my head had been fucked. I’d really hoped it wasn’t true. </p><p> </p><p>Because Viktor was right. It did hurt like hell to know Johnny had done it, willingly. At that moment, in that split second, his decision had been to risk my life; he hadn’t thought about other options, he hadn’t even let himself begin to consider any. He’d taken a huge fucking gamble and he was just lucky it had paid off in his favour. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve done what I can for your wounds, they definitely won’t be killin’ ya.” the ripperdoc continued, gesturing vaguely to me. “But I can’t do much else without my shop. Cyberware replacement’s gonna have to wait - unfortunately, that includes doing anything for your poor hand.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t wanna think about it.” I said immediately. “Don’t wanna be sick.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, sure. Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>All that could come later, when I didn’t feel like my head was gonna explode. When I didn’t feel like my stomach was churning faster than a washing machine. I wasn’t looking at anything right now but the insides of my eyelids - no hand, no wrists, no wounds. Wasn’t even gonna try letting myself see again with half my vision botched like it was.</p><p> </p><p>He carried on, though thankfully on other topics, “I also checked out your OS real quick.” he said, “Everything was still runnin’ fine. Only problem, out of curiosity, I did check your panic program-”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” I cut off quickly. “I know.”</p><p> </p><p>Viktor might’ve thought he’d been helpful telling Johnny about my panic program, but if anything, he’d only given him leave to be reckless. Recklessly stupid. I knew what version I had installed - I’d somehow managed to afford it years back, the poor man’s Trauma Team. And of course, something that seems <em> that </em> good doesn’t last long; was designed to only survive a few months in my system before it shrivelled up into a piece of no-good software. The likelihood that it would keep my heart beating right now was slim to none. </p><p> </p><p>Which was why I was so goddamn angry with Johnny. </p><p> </p><p>“I can upgrade it for you when things have calmed down.” he offered, “But for now you should probably get some rest, okay? I’ve got other patients to see to.”</p><p> </p><p>I thought nothing of it - I mean, Vik was a ripperdoc, of course he had other patients. But even as I nodded, drowsy, and slumped back down on the mattress with his help, something was nagging at the back of my head. Something wasn’t quite right but I couldn’t find the words to formulate the question I needed to ask, so I didn’t bother. Just sighed when Viktor gave my head a little pat, listened to his retreating footsteps. The mattress was thin, bumpy, but I’d slept on worse. </p><p> </p><p>When I was a kid, I slept on concrete. </p><p> </p><p>Must’ve been a few hours later that I woke up again. Felt a bit better, better enough to open my eye and try to take in my surroundings a bit better than earlier. Yeah, still After - weird as fuck, but I didn’t think about it too hard. Besides my head, on the ground just next to the mattress, were a few items. A bottle of water, a little tub of pills. Blindly I grasped for it, relieved to find they were some painkillers, knocking two back with a gulp of the water. After a minute or two, they kicked in, and I was able to sit up with far more ease than last time. </p><p> </p><p>Vik wasn’t around so I guessed he’d gone home. I very carefully stretched, feeling an ache in my limbs that wasn’t just down to my abuse, but to stiffness for so long. Besides the water bottle, there was a little sachet. Curiously, I picked it up, realised it was some sort of envelope - inside was a little bit of fabric, worn but soft. With it was a little note.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Hey V, wanted to give this to you in person, but you’ve been out cold for a hot minute now so I didn’t wanna be creepy by just lingering. You don’t gotta accept it, but I figured it might help - I know what it’s like to be in that position. This was the eyepatch Joss got for me when I first lost mine, been carrying it like a lucky charm since. Figured you might get more use out of it.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<ul>
<li><em>River</em></li>
</ul><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ah, well that definitely made some sense. I thought I’d seen River there in that warehouse, but I hadn’t been completely sure - brushed it off like I’d imagined it. Still, it was a nice gesture. I’d always assumed River’s chrome eye was optional, an improvement to help him keep up as a cop, but suddenly the scars on his cheek made sense. That hadn’t been a choice. </p><p> </p><p>Just like mine. </p><p> </p><p>So I put the eyepatch on. Struggled a little with only a thumb and stumps - that I still wasn’t gonna look at - and my right hand, but I managed it. Tugged my hair free. Strangely, it didn’t feel as tangled as it should’ve, meaning someone had been tending to it while I was out cold. In fact I didn’t feel nearly as gross as I should’ve. My skin felt clean, if a little clammy, my clothes smelled relatively fresh. </p><p> </p><p>Weren’t mine though. Too big. I looked down and pulled at the loose fabric of my t-shirt, recognising the 2020 Samurai tour art on my chest. Johnny’s clothes. </p><p> </p><p>I tested my feet. Sure enough, everything wobbled for a few seconds, and after leaning on the wall for long enough, things stopped spinning enough that I could try - with the wall as my support at arm’s length - to leave the room. The door slid open for me, and sure enough, I was in Afterlife, but it didn’t look open. Neons were off in place of shitty white strip lights, music was silent. Still, as I rounded the corridors on my shaky feet and out into the bar, it sure as fuck <em> was not </em> closed. Place was filled with faces I didn’t know, mercs who looked both fresh off the street and ones who looked like they’d been running them for decades. They all wore similar expressions though, no matter if they were slumped in booths, over the bar with drinks in hand, or checking their weapons.</p><p> </p><p>They were tired and pissed. </p><p> </p><p>I rounded the bar, still praying my feet would just keep carrying me so I could figure out what the hell was happening. Thankfully, round the front of the bar, where Claire was staring very pensively at the counter, I recognised some familiar faces; Rogue, chatting seriously with Commander Torres and Squarma. </p><p> </p><p>And Johnny. </p><p> </p><p>Tried to make my way down to where they were standing; had a dozen questions I wanted to ask, things I needed to know. This situation just felt all kinds of bizarre, all kinds of <em> wrong </em> . Seeing After so quiet yet so full of bodies, so many people packing heat and yet none of them had managed to start a fight. It was like I was still asleep and <em> this </em> was my dream; albeit a weird one, but it felt just enough out of place to fit in. </p><p> </p><p>But halfway there I just couldn’t manage it. Felt too short of breath, and my head was spinning again. Too much too fast, and while Vik’s painkillers helped, they didn’t work miracles. I stopped, set my hands on the bar, and tried to look anywhere but them. I forced myself to breathe steadily, in and out, else I might’ve puked at the sight of my own fingers - or lack thereof. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, V, take it easy.” said a familiar voice from behind me, and a hand settled on my shoulder. “You okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m okay. I’m okay.” I mumbled, almost to myself. A mini pep-talk to lift myself up off the bar, and catch my breath. I turned to look at River behind me; he was offering me a sort of half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Like he was unsure what face he should be pulling. I let out a breath, and said, “I need to talk to Johnny.” </p><p> </p><p>His smile faltered a little, but he nodded. He looked to where I’d wanted to go - to where Johnny still stood with his back to us. </p><p> </p><p>“Silverhand!” he called, and the distaste in his tone sounded like a reflex, like he’d had the time to get used to it, familiar with it. I looked his way as Johnny responded to the call with an equally distasteful scowl on his face, because he seemed to recognise the voice before he even turned around. </p><p> </p><p>But then his eyes landed on me, and it slipped away faster than if I would’ve slapped him. </p><p> </p><p>“You shouldn’t be up.” was the first thing he said to me. Not a,<em> it’s good to see you awake </em> , or, <em> I was worried about you </em> . Not even a fucking hi. Jumping right into scolding, as if <em> he </em> behaved and followed doctor’s orders when things were fucked. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s goin’ on, Johnny?” I asked, looking vaguely at the scene of the club around us. We were getting looks, but I didn’t care. </p><p> </p><p>But he ignored me. Glared over my head at River, lips curled into a downward curve. “I got this, Ward, you can piss off now.” he said coldly, putting an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, I got you.” and then his other under my legs. I threw my head back and groaned to the ceiling as he hauled my sorry ass up off my feet.</p><p> </p><p>“I can walk, Johnny.” </p><p> </p><p>“But you shouldn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>And he undid all my good progress by walking me back the way I’d came. I only realised then that his arm was back - fairly obvious, really, because how else would he be carrying me? But it wasn’t safe for him to have it back yet. Vik had told me it was too soon for it to be ready at the start of the week. </p><p> </p><p>He waited for the door to my little room to slide open, stepped on through, slid shut behind us. And then slowly, lowered my feet back to the ground, keeping a tight arm around my back as if he was afraid I’d topple over. In an attempt to show him I wasn’t a goddamn porcelain doll, I brushed off his arm, and held myself upright for a few seconds. Stared right into those damn pretty, dark eyes of his, just daring him to make me out to be a damsel again. </p><p> </p><p>It was unfair, really, considering that’s what I’d become in the last few days. But I hated feeling like I was helpless - I’d had enough of that while in Maelstrom’s care. </p><p> </p><p>He stared back at me for a little while. Looked me up and down, a quick scan from head to toe, and back up again. Brows twitched tight together in a little frown when he looked at the eyepatch keeping my left eye thankfully shut. Managed to keep his hands to himself for all of a full minute. </p><p> </p><p>And then he kissed me. All at once, but not fucking fast enough. He grabbed my face between his hands, leaned over me, slanted his mouth over mine in a way that was perfect and not enough all at once. I grasped the front of his shirt in my hand, yanked him closer, pressed up against him. It wasn’t enough. None of it was enough. Just the relief in feeling him, hearing him, knowing he was here and not a fucking dream - it was a little overwhelming. I couldn’t get closer, but I was desperate to. </p><p> </p><p>He seemed to want the exact same thing. His hands fell, grasped the loose hem of my - <em> his </em> - top and I reluctantly pulled away long enough to let him yank it up over my head. It hurt to raise my arms a little bit, but I was able to ignore it, because I had a much-needed distraction eating up my breath the second it was out of the way. In his haste, he scrambled to catch my thighs in his hands, to haul me up into his arms again, but brushed past a bruise I just <em> knew </em> was purple on my hip. Barely muttered an apology before he was kissing me again, lapping at my tongue with his, and I forgave him. I tried to hop up and he helped me the rest of the way, grunting as I wrapped my legs around his waist and yanked on his hair to keep fucking kissing me. If he stopped I think I would’ve just shrivelled up and died right there. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, I missed you.” he panted - then laughed. Breathlessly, relieved. I couldn’t help the smile. The feeling was mutual - I don’t think we’d ever agreed on something so whole-heartedly before. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny managed to take a seat on that shitty mattress on the ground, freeing up his hands from supporting my weight. I shivered as his icy metal fingers trailed up my back; as both of them curled around me to hold me to him in a firm grip, like he was afraid I’d get up and run. Or as if I’d just vanish. </p><p> </p><p>Once upon a time, Johnny had told me he didn’t do gentle. And I knew that he was a fucking liar. </p><p> </p><p>I wasn’t sure how much time we spent trying to make up for the nights we’d been forced apart. It was all a blur and I hated that - I wanted to remember it. The flimsy little blanket that had been keeping my out-cold ass warm was tucked around us, Johnny’s chest pressed up to my back. He had an arm around me again, tight and secure over my chest with fingers around my shoulder. And his breathing was warm, soothing; gentle on my ear. I’d almost forgotten what comfort and contentment felt like thanks to the fuckery I’d gone through.</p><p> </p><p>“I ain’t lettin’ you go anywhere alone again, okay?” he murmured sleepily, and I hummed in agreement immediately. I’d been fucking stupid, and paid the worst price for it. Slowly, as to not hurt myself, I rolled in his arm, to lay flat on my back so I could see him. He moved back to give me the space, set his head up in his silver hand. I ran my fingers over the lines under his eyes, the fresh creases in his brow. Tugged at the handful of little grey hairs in his beard that I didn’t remember. </p><p> </p><p>And then I placed my hand against his jaw; ran my thumb over his cheek. “Sorry for makin’ you worry.” I whispered, a little afraid that if I spoke any louder, my voice would crack.</p><p> </p><p>“You better be.” he huffed, and cracked open his eyes. If I didn’t know any better, the look on his face would’ve been a glare. But it was too soft to be malicious or as serious as he might’ve meant it. </p><p> </p><p>Soft was not a word I thought I’d ever use to describe Johnny Silverhand. </p><p> </p><p>Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hand move from where it was resting on my stomach. That hand that he wore his rings on; one on every finger but his wedding ring finger. I watched how the little snake tattooed on his skin writhed as he unfurled the fist it had curled into, and saw the tiny gentle prod his fingers made at a fresh scar on my chest. A round little scar, still an angry red; stitched shut. </p><p> </p><p>Where his bullet had hit me. </p><p> </p><p>“Did you really think that was the best idea?” I whispered, and he didn’t look at me. His eyes followed the movements of his fingers, and when I flinched from a sudden pain in my chest, his hand drew away. </p><p> </p><p>“It was the first thing I could think of that meant you wouldn’t get killed.” he tried, and still didn’t look at me.</p><p> </p><p>I scoffed. “First thing you thought of.” I shook my head, closing my eye and letting out a sigh. “Of course the first thing you thought of was to shoot me. You’re fuckin’ lucky it worked. You know what would’ve happened if it didn’t?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I know.” he said in a harsh tone, and even this shitty thin mattress felt lighter when he moved; sat up, slid to its end. I cracked open my eye to see exactly what I thought he’d be doing. Finding his clothes. </p><p> </p><p>“Vik didn’t explain how panic programs work, did he?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. He angrily pulled his shirt over his head, got to his feet and tugged his boxers back on, then his pants. Stomped around a bit when he couldn’t find his belt. Good - I’d tossed it into the dark corner at the other side of the room. Easing myself upright, I continued, “Panic programs have a best-before date like anythin’ else, Johnny. Mine was discontinued four years ago.”</p><p> </p><p>That had him for a second. He froze up, but impressively shook it off quite fast, returning to his search. The belt was in his hands after a second, and he was sliding it through the loops in his pants and despite his want to rush out of this conversation, he was taking his time. Like it was the only distraction he had. </p><p> </p><p>“D'you understand what kinda gamble you made now, Johnny?” I pressed, and he expertly continued to ignore me. “I could’ve died. For <em> real </em>. And it was the first fuckin’ thing that came to mind?”</p><p> </p><p>He snapped. Like a twig under foot, like a band under too much strain. I knew it was only a matter of time before he turned on his heel and his voice jumped up to a volume mine hadn’t come anywhere near to.</p><p> </p><p>“I was runnin’ on two fuckin’ hours of sleep!” came his first burst of frustration, “You’d been missing for three days, V. Three <em> fucking </em>days! And then I saw you there and I thought, ‘thank fuck, it’s over, the nightmare’s over.’ But no, of course not. Nothin’s ever easy for me, I never fuckin’ deserve things to go my way. So I see some gonk grab you and I panic. Panic? Panic program.”</p><p> </p><p>“Explainin’ your logic to me doesn’t change how fuckin’ stupid that logic is-”</p><p> </p><p>But he carried on like I’d said nothing. “I got this arm refitted, even though it’s broken, and I’m in pain because of it every second. I took beatin' after beatin' tryna find you! Let others boss me around, treat me like a little bitch, had to put up with fuckin' idiots like River Ward! So yeah, when it came to it, I was tired, I took the first fuckin' plan that came to mind in that situation! Did you see anyone else comin' up with one, huh?"</p><p> </p><p>My heart was pounding in my chest. "I bet you didn't even think it though. I bet you just assumed yours was the best plan because everyone else was still frozen up in shock!" and then I laughed, "While we're at it, we gonna complain about our injuries? Sure! I have a concussion, my <em> fuckin' eye </em>is gone, my fingers have been chopped off, my chrome ripped out. I'm covered in cuts and bruises and aches, but sure! Sure, yours are obviously more important here! Johnny Silverhand is always more important than anyone else. Not even his supposed output matters!"</p><p> </p><p>“Did you not listen to a goddamn word I just said, you stupid bitch?” he roared, and then a sudden silence came over the both of us. I wet my lips and stared down at my lap; my right hand, the only one with fingers, was holding the sheet to my chest. And my left, just a stump with a thumb, was resting on my thighs. </p><p> </p><p>A minute of quiet passed. Then another. </p><p> </p><p>"V, I didn't mean-" </p><p> </p><p>"Get out. I don't wanna talk to you." </p><p> </p><p>I wasn't even angry anymore. I was upset, if anything - upset that I'd brought it up, upset that he'd reacted so viciously and defensively so fast. Upset that our little moment of bliss, in being happy because we were just together again, had faded so quickly. I didn't want him to go at the same time I needed to see anything but his face. </p><p> </p><p>So he went. Left me in that tiny back room alone, on that shitty mattress that had only been made less awful when he was on it with me. I just stayed there and stared blankly at the ceiling until it hurt my eye too much to try to make out the edges of every tile. </p><p> </p><p>When I woke up again, I was predictably alone. Part of me had hoped Johnny would ignore what I'd asked, and have come crawling back while I was asleep. But no, I was alone, and my left leg was numb because it had fallen off the mattress in my tossing and turning, laid on the cold floor. Restless sleep was worse than none at all. I didn't feel any better than I had before my sleep. If anything, I just felt hollow. Empty. Like I'd rather just lay there and stare at the ceiling than muster the strength to sit up and try to find out what was going on. </p><p> </p><p>I managed to roll up and get dressed. My makeshift bed smelled of sweat and sex now, which wasn't ideal, but I didn't mind it. It felt familiar and safe. I put Johnny's clothes back on, found someone had set my boots neatly down by the bottom of my mattress. Someone had also thought to try to clean off the blood, but some dried patches still stained the leather. </p><p> </p><p>Inside the left one was a balled up pair of socks. A pair of Johnny's, soft and thick. Sighing, I pulled them on; even when we'd argued, he was still looking out for me. I put on my boots, then got up, feeling my head spin. My painkillers were still on the ground beside the mattress so I took some, and things settled. </p><p> </p><p>Afterlife was still packed, who knows how many hours later. Some mercs regarded me funny as I passed by, and one too many gazes lingered on my eyepatch. So I made the effort to fold my arms - tucking my left hand against my chest so people couldn't stare at that too. There was a quiet buzz of conversation, and it felt like my ears had popped or something because of the silent void the music usually filled. Keeping to myself, I rounded the bar, and found Claire speaking with Rogue near to where the Afterlife sign hung, turned off, over their heads. </p><p> </p><p>"V! Hey, how you feelin'?" Claire asked softly, with a warm smile as I walked on up. Rogue kindly offered me her stool, and I feebly sunk onto it. </p><p> </p><p>I shrugged. "I'm okay, I guess. Not dead, so could always be worse." I said vaguely. Rogue was watching me, with a firm gaze that probably made others squirm. I turned to her, "I suppose I have you to thank, really. I know Johnny wouldn't'a found me without you." </p><p> </p><p>She nodded, finally giving up to look at the bar counter instead. Her fingers were tapping an idle little pattern on it. </p><p> </p><p>"I wasn't gonna leave you to those fuckin' animals. You might be a pain in the ass but you didn't deserve that." she said, and despite the fact I wanted her to smile at the insult - as if she was joking - she looked at me seriously. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, then. I hope he wasn't too much of a dick." </p><p> </p><p>Then she smiled. "I've been dealin' with Johnny's shit since before you were born, V. I should get paid for the patience I have." she sighed, stood upright from where she was leaning on the bar. She looked tired. </p><p> </p><p>"What's goin' on, Rogue?" I asked, once more looking around us. It was… Tense. Like we were inside a fucking nuclear bunker, not a bar. The only evidence of it was the drinks some of the mercs were losing themselves in. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny not tell you?" </p><p> </p><p>"We were busy." </p><p> </p><p>She didn't look surprised. "To give you the short version: we've been trapped down here since yesterday. Maelstrom followed you back here, they've been laying siege on After. We barely managed to barricade ourselves in." </p><p> </p><p>"Holy fuck." I breathed. The dead-eyed expressions of the mercs around me made sense all of a sudden. It was either be trapped down here or try to leave - and be sitting fucking ducks for Maelstrom's rifles. They wouldn't care who stepped outside, they wouldn't wait to check if they were friend or foe. And the entrance to After was a glorified funnel; one path, one set of gloomy stairs down from the back street. </p><p> </p><p>So in layman's terms: we were fucked. </p><p> </p><p>We were at war with Maelstrom, then. Rogue no longer had their support, that much was clear. And being trapped down here for a whole night probably wasn't doing any miracles for independent mercenaries' loyalty. </p><p> </p><p>"Have we lost anyone?" I asked, almost a little scared to ask. </p><p> </p><p>"A few guys got a bit too big for their boots." she sighed, "Tried going out even though I said not to. One passed away early this morning. The others are still hangin' on, but they'd be dead too if not for your ripper friend." </p><p> </p><p>Vik was stuck down here with us too then. Poor guy. </p><p> </p><p>"How'd Viktor end up with us?" I asked, fidgeting to stop my leg from going dead again. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny called him on the way back. He arrived here faster than they got here, ready to help you. That's a loyal doc you got, V." </p><p> </p><p>I smiled faintly. "Yeah, Vik's a good friend." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue gestured behind me, "Your cop friend too, Ward, he's down there." I rolled her pointed finger to see River in a booth by himself at the other end of the bar. He offered me a polite little nod when he saw me looking, and I waved. "My usual crew are around as well. Johnny's probably sulking somewhere - you two fight?" </p><p> </p><p>My turn to sigh. I didn't want to get into this with Johnny's ex of all people - she knew what he was like, and as much as I wanted to get my anger off my chest, I didn't want to <em> bitch </em>about him. I wasn't sure why I was angry in truth. Wasn't even angry with him, not really; he did what he had to, and sure he'd risked my life, but he'd saved it. He'd made a call and it had worked out. I just felt off. Weird. </p><p> </p><p>It was probably to be expected after what I'd been through, but I refused to think too hard about it. </p><p> </p><p>"Have we got a plan, then?" I asked instead of answering her. </p><p> </p><p>"If I did, we wouldn't be like this." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted. How could her, Queen of the fucking Afterlife, best fixer in town, not know what to do? I sighed, turned around to lay my arms on the bar, trying to ignore how Rogue was looking at my hands. I knew it was a bad idea to ask for anything alcoholic from Claire so she passed me a glass of water I guzzled down greedily. Felt like someone had rubbed my throat with sandpaper. </p><p> </p><p>"So what, we wait until Maelstrom break in?" I asked, voice flat. Unimpressed, really, with the way she was handling things. "We just wait for them to come in and gun us down? How long are they gonna wait for us to break? 'Cause I can tell you now, those cyberpsychos are patient."</p><p> </p><p>"I don't-" </p><p> </p><p>"Gimme your holo." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue halted. Eyed me with something of a glare, folded her arms over her chest. </p><p> </p><p>"Why?" she asked suspiciously. </p><p> </p><p>"Because I'm gonna call Panam. Unlike you, she likes me. Her family cares about me. So I'm gonna ask her if she wouldn't mind moppin' up the mess that yanked out my eye and cut off my fingers." </p><p> </p><p>For a minute more, she hesitated. And then she knew, once she'd <em> really </em>thought about it, that I was right. So she huffed, reached round to the back of her head and popped out her holo sim, and reluctantly handed it to me. I slotted it in and she dialled a number in her contacts list. It rang a few times, and the first attempt ended in Panam straight up refusing the call. And then, on the second, she answered. </p><p> </p><p>Panam sounded out of breath and grumpy. "<em> What do you want, Rogue- </em>" </p><p> </p><p>"Not Rogue." I said with a tiny smile. </p><p> </p><p>Immediately her tone changed. "<em> V! It is good to hear from you! But… What are you doing with Rogue's holo? </em>" </p><p> </p><p>"That's a <em> long </em>story we don't got time for." I glanced down at my hands for inspiration, "Short one? Some Maelstrom gonks thought they could get the better of me - kidnapped me, fucked me up a bit. Pulled out my eye and chopped off my fingers, among other things." </p><p> </p><p>Panam was fucking appaulled. The fury in her voice could've burned my brains out. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Motherfuckers! How dare they? Do they know who they're messing with? Say the word, V, and the Aldecaldos will </em>-" </p><p> </p><p>"Word. Rogue and her merry crew sprung a prison break and the bastards have us trapped down in Afterlife."</p><p> </p><p>I cringed from the sudden shout of, "<em> Saul! I need people </em> !" and then softer, she said, " <em> Hold tight, V! We are on our way to help. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Panam. Love ya." </p><p> </p><p>And then the call ended. Smugly, I popped out Rogue's holo chip and handed it over, spinning on my stool to lean back against the bar. As the Queen took it back, I dove at the chance to one-up her. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, everyone!" I yelled, sitting upright. Raising my voice louder hurt my head a bit, but it was worth it to see every head swivel to look at me. "Hi, I'm V! I'm the unfortunate fucker that's indirectly caused all of you to be stuck in this joint." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck you." came one voice out in the back, and I rolled my eyes. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck you too, choom. Anyway - I caused a problem and I'm fixin' it. Give it an hour and we'll be out, easy. Backup's on its way." </p><p> </p><p>And that was about as much as I could manage. As the bar broke out into little whispers, I slipped off the stool and onto my feet. Patted Rogue's shoulder as I turned away from the bar. Even if my bed here was shitty, I needed it. Fuck, I needed to sleep. Felt like I hadn't slept at all in weeks, like just walking here and using my brain to process Rogue's conversation had drained every ounce of energy I had left in me. </p><p> </p><p>When arms swept me off my goddamn feet again, this time it was welcomed. Mostly because I'd stumbled, but also because I couldn't be fucked to walk the rest of the way. </p><p> </p><p>"Got a surprise for you." Johnny told me as I sank into his arms, rested my head down against his shoulder. "And I guarantee you won't be mad at me afterwards." </p><p> </p><p>I already wasn't mad at him anymore. I was too tired to be mad; right now, being in his arms felt pretty fucking good. He was warm - apart from the cold metal arm around my back - and I could've curled up to fall asleep there and then even with how I got a bit jostled with every step. </p><p> </p><p>The sound of a door sliding open made me blink my eye back open from the very near precipice of sleep I'd found myself on. This room wasn't mine, far nicer than mine, actually. Carpeted floors, a polished oak desk on one side that held a trio of monitors and stacks of papers. A book or two - bizarrely printed to look like classic literature. There was a pair of couches on the far side, positioned to form a little ninety degree corner to sit and watch the TV opposite the desk at. Except both of them were covered in blankets and pillows; makeshift beds. Johnny carried me with him to the one against the far wall, didn't even put me down. Just sat down with me still in his arms, leaving me to rest in his lap. With a pillow behind my back, this was as comfy as it was ever gonna get. </p><p> </p><p>And then I heard a little bark. A tiny, squeaky little thing that instantly lifted my spirits. Daisy's tiny front paws leapt up to Johnny's knee, barking her baby heart out while trying - and failing - to get up. He leaned forward and scooped her up into my lap, and I don't think I'd ever been so happy to be covered in slobber before. She licked almost every inch of my face, even getting her little gross, slippery tongue on fresh little cuts on my cheeks and brow. </p><p> </p><p>"I missed you too, baby, yes I did!" I cooed, and only a short while later, she'd tired herself out so quickly with so much excitement, she was trying to curl up against my chest. My smile faltered a little bit when I looked over at Johnny, "Why is she here? Why'd bring her to After of all places?" </p><p> </p><p>"'Cause I wasn't gonna leave her in the apartment alone when I wasn't goin' home." he said bluntly, like it was obvious. "She's been stayin' here with Rogue, she's been takin' care of her." </p><p> </p><p>Ah, so this was Rogue's office. If they hadn't left, and Daisy was sleeping here then one of these couches was his. And that meant the other was… Rogue's. A little part of me hated that idea. Hated the thought that they'd slept so close, spiteful and petty. Rogue wouldn't touch him again with a ten foot pole, and I knew Johnny would never sleep with another girl while we were together, but still. Bad thoughts of long, late night convos, of sitting together on a couch and drinking, they crept into my mind. </p><p> </p><p>"Have I told you how much I missed you?" Johnny said lowly, and all of a sudden, the thoughts were chased away. I turned to face him, catching his gaze staring not into my eyes but at my lips. I wound my arm around his neck and hauled him down to me, melting into his kiss. Fuck, I wasn't mad anymore. I didn't want to be mad anymore. </p><p> </p><p>"I missed you too." I mumbled, and breathed him in. Took in his smell, of musk and leather, a tiny hint of sweat and a distant ghost of tobacco. I liked how he smelled so much better than when he smoked a dozen a day - like the smoke clouded more than just my sight, hid away his scent. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck, maybe my little trip away with Maelstrom had made me more sentimental if I was revelling in his fucking smell. </p><p> </p><p>"I gotta call Ker, tell him what's happened." he said with a sigh, and before he could even begin to fidget, I shook my head. </p><p> </p><p>"No, just… Sit here with me for a bit." and when he looked at me doubtfully, I added a little, "Please?" </p><p> </p><p>His face hardened at that. But then he wound his arm tighter around me and clamped his free hand on my knee, squeezing. Panam was on her way to free us, and soon this fucking nightmare would be over. Things could start to go back to normal - <em> we </em>could go back to normal. We could go back to waking up next to each other in our bed, I could listen to him grumble for five more minutes, laugh as Daisy decided to play tug-of-war with his blanket. We could take our morning showers together, eat a shitty breakfast and watch the NC morning news. Wonder when the fuck Alt was gonna be done destroying Arasaka so we could live our lives. And then do whatever we wanted, just to end the day by tumbling into bed together and waking up to repeat it all over. </p><p> </p><p>I didn't want it to change. But I couldn't keep living in fear forever. </p><p> </p><p>I jumped as the door slid open. Johnny's grip tightened even further on me as if he expected me to run away. I wasn't embarrassed or ashamed of PDA, no sir. But in front of <em> Rogue </em>? Felt awkward, to say the least.</p><p> </p><p>"Didn't know I'd ordered cheese to my office." she teased with a roll of her eyes as she waltzed in and dropped herself into her desk chair. Alright, maybe not as awkward as I thought. "Forgot you were a cuddler, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>Okay, never mind. Awkward. </p><p> </p><p>"You figured a way outta this mess yet?" he asked, unfazed. As if I wasn't sat in his lap, completely blocking his view of her. </p><p> </p><p>"V did." she dismissed, "Remembered she had a favour to call in with the Aldecaldos." </p><p> </p><p>"Wasn't a favour." I said simply, abruptly. "Panam is comin' because she's my friend. Not that much different to how you helped me too, Rogue." </p><p> </p><p>She didn't say anything to that. Just sat still for a short minute, and then I heard the little digital clicks of her keyboard. Sighing, I fidgeted so that Johnny would let me go, and curled up on the couch beside him with Daisy in my lap instead. Well, if Rogue didn't wanna call herself my friend, I didn't know what we were meant to be. We had a lot in common, sure, but she didn't seem to want to let any of it be recognised. Kept me at arm's length, as if she wasn't sure whether she wanted me to be a lackey or an ally. </p><p> </p><p>"Is it okay if I sleep here for a bit?" I asked Johnny, "I don't wanna go back to that room."</p><p> </p><p>Compared to Rogue's lavish office and soft couch, that room I'd woken up in felt almost like I'd just found myself in another Maelstrom prison cell. He squeezed my knee and got to his feet. </p><p> </p><p>"Sure." he nodded, and hauled the blankets from under my feet up and over me, "So long as <em> she </em>doesn't mind, I guess. I'll be out in the bar for when Panam gets here." </p><p> </p><p>"Alright. Don't do anythin' stupid." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Me </em>? Never." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny left the office, the door sliding shut with a soft whoosh. Fuck. I tried to keep myself occupied with Daisy, and when she woke up to lick at my nose, I let myself smile. </p><p> </p><p>"Come on, that's enough," I cooed, rubbing her head, "Lay down now, good girl." </p><p> </p><p>"Been a mom long?" Rogue asked, and I held in my groan. I didn't wanna talk to her - sure, I'd done so out in the bar, but the situation had shifted a bit now. She'd walked in on me sitting in her ex's lap, seconds away from eating each other's faces again. Maybe she'd even seen a happy little family smiling all stupid at each other. </p><p> </p><p>"'Bout a month." I reluctantly said, "I had a dog just like her when I was a kid." </p><p> </p><p>"And Johnny was just… Okay with it?" </p><p> </p><p>Why did that feel like a testing question? Awkwardly, I nodded. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. In fact, I think she actually likes him more, little traitor." </p><p> </p><p>"Doesn't sound like him." she commented thoughtfully, and pretended to be distracted by her monitors. I knew she was more enthralled by our conversation, though. "Johnny's never cared about much more than himself." </p><p> </p><p><em> That </em> was a fucking lie, just to get under my skin. Just to rile me up, to see how I'd go about defending him. We both knew how he felt about what had happened with Rogue, with Alt. And I was fairly certain the events of the last few days made it pretty obvious how he felt about <em> me </em>too. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, he's changed. He's still a dick, just not as bad as he was once upon a time." I closed my eye over and sunk down into the couch. Viciously, maybe, I added, "Back in ye olde days." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue didn't respond. Calling her old wasn't exactly new or creative, so she probably - and unfortunately - didn't take offense, but it shut her up anyway. And now Daisy was settled down again, and we could sleep, just for a bit longer. When Panam got here, I'd demand Johnny take me out for food. Like proper, real food; filling and unhealthy and probably greasy, I didn't give a fuck. Right then I was feeling a little queasy but who knows how long had it been since I ate? Food had suddenly become a luxury I missed like all hell. </p><p> </p><p>So I drifted off to sleep imagining all the nice things I'd eat. Fuck, I couldn't wait to be a fat bitch and eat whatever I wanted. </p><p> </p><p>For now, it was time for another nap. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Smut soooooooooon!</p><p>More chapters on their way too, glad to finally be outta this Maelstrom mess lmao</p><p>I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr! Come and hang out with me in the <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Cyberpunks discord server</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. City to Burn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, y'all! I sketched up little ref sheet to visualise the new additions to V's cyberware in this chapter, which you can see <a href="https://64.media.tumblr.com/534c92f685c4ed7c279770b9d6cfbf17/9b41d14398c56a22-10/s2048x3072/a542c11de30907e10d64989d8d9cf36d0ffbe1ee.png">here</a>! (Or as a post on tumblr, <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/post/641599375348514816/a-little-designref-sheet-i-did-for-my-v-following">here</a>).</p><p>To avoid any minor spoilers, I'd recommend reading through the section at Vik's before takin' a look!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>APRIL 27th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Watson, Little China :: The Afterlife … 10:43PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Seeing Panam always made me smile. Hell, she was the closest thing to a best friend I'd had since Jackie passed. She bitched about Rogue with me, lent her ear to my problems, and most importantly, had my back. </p><p> </p><p>Then was one of those times. The crew of After stumbled out into the parking lot, blinking under the bright lights of the city as if they were cavemen seeing the sun for the first time. Johnny insisted on arming me if <em> I </em>insisted coming out to greet our saviours, so the handgun felt heavy in my hand. The parking lot was in fucking shambles; a dozen Maelstrom trucks had probably barricaded the entrance, only to have been crushed aside by the Aldecaldos trucks - big off-road things with the extra steels around the chassis that street rats just didn't need. Maelstrom obviously hadn't expected resistance to come from behind. Got fucked so fast by my little adoptive family that it looked like they'd barely put up a fight. </p><p> </p><p>And as for whoever had had the misfortune of parking here before the attack, well… Their rides had gotten thoroughly fucked too. </p><p> </p><p>Including Johnny's Porsche. </p><p> </p><p>"Mother<em> fuckers </em>!" he yelled at the sight of it - his poor baby had been ripped to shreds, most likely to stave off the boredom of no easy prey. Engine gutted, tires knifed or just taken off entirely by the spokes, windows smashed. Its spoiler was discarded on the ground by the door that'd been pulled off the driver's side, and some bold fucker had spray-painted a red line through the Samurai logo on back. Johnny held his face in his hands, almost as if looking at it was too much to bear. The other vehicles weren't looking much better. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry, baby," I rubbed his back and sighed. The poor car didn't deserve her fate. Still, it really <em> was </em>an ugly shade of green in the back. And those tires were a bit excessively boring… </p><p> </p><p>"V!" </p><p> </p><p>I whipped around to see Panam for the split-second before she jumped on me. She squeezed the goddamn life outta me - I was dizzy when she put me back down on my feet, out of breath. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, those bastards!" she cried with frustration, face twisted into a scowl of fury and despair at the sight of my sorry face, and held my left hand in hers. "I'm just upset I did not make them suffer!" </p><p> </p><p>"Already got the fucker that did that to her." Johnny said idly, but he was rigid beside me. As if he was trying really hard to keep his cool. </p><p> </p><p>"You did?" I echoed in surprise. </p><p> </p><p>"'Course. When you…" he cleared his throat, "When your panic program kicked in, we shot every bastard in that room. I shot him in the leg so he couldn't run and when I got up there, we had some fun." </p><p> </p><p>The tone of his voice, that low rasp, the almost <em> growl </em>… Fuck, it scared me as much as it turned me on. He sighed, turned his back on his car, and slung an arm around my shoulders. I was glad he did, because it was fucking cold out here. </p><p> </p><p>"Well," Panam didn't look as if she knew what to say. Still too full of anger for the situation to be so suddenly resolved. She angrily folded her arms across her chest, and spat, "Good!" </p><p> </p><p>"I really hate to ask after what you've already done, Pan," I began, and gestured rather sadly at our car behind us, "But could you give us a ride home? I don't think I could stand the idea of tryna walk home." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny's fingers tightened suddenly on my arm. As if I'd contemplated it. </p><p> </p><p>She smiled at me. "Of course. My truck is over here, come." </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks," I breathed in relief, "Could you go and get Daisy, Johnny? I don't know if I'll make it up those stairs a second time." </p><p> </p><p>"Sure. Panam, keep an eye on her." </p><p> </p><p>She nodded. "Aye, aye." </p><p> </p><p>Couldn't stop my eye from rolling, "Since when do you take orders from Johnny?" </p><p> </p><p>"I don't, unless they're smart suggestions. They're usually not." </p><p> </p><p>I barked a laugh, so surprised by her jab that it actually hurt me to react. Panam beckoned me to follow her, and her trusty truck was parked at the far side of After's lot. We passed by some friendly faces I knew from the Aldecaldos, and I offered them a nod as we went. She opened the passenger side door for me and offered me a much-needed hand to clamber up and into the cab. Once the door was securely shut behind me, she circled the hood and got in beside me. </p><p> </p><p>"Now, I will not ask you to tell me the details, I'm sure you're still in a bit of shock," she said, gently, like she was scared I was gonna break, "But how did this happen, V? Who were we fighting? Should we be worried?" </p><p> </p><p>For once, I was able to give a decently certain answer. "You don't gotta worry; they were Maelstrom. Got a bit too big for their boots, I think, tried to break Rogue by breakin' Johnny through breakin' me. So Johnny went around town fuckin' 'em up one hideout at a time. They're basically history." </p><p> </p><p>Panam sighed. Turned and gripped the steering wheel in both hands. "I hope for their sake, you are right. The Aldecaldos will not let them get away with hurting one of our own." </p><p> </p><p>It had been <em> months </em>since I'd ridden with the Aldecaldos, and even then it had been for a fortnight or two at most. Still, she considered my one-time, brief acceptance of her offer as forever, and for once, I didn't fear such heavy commitment. She and Saul were happy to have me come and go, so long as I remembered who my friends were. So long as I didn't endanger their family - and most times, I didn't. Not actively. Sure, I might've brought them into this, but from the looks of things, it was an easy win. The only time I'd risked their lives so directly had been when we first fled Night City - when Saul had had Panam scream at him for hours while Johnny and I watched. Refugees from the city, desperately trying to run. Going to the only friendly faces we knew in the Badlands. </p><p> </p><p>And Saul had agreed, hours later. Let me and Johnny ride with them for a bit. It had been great, for a while; freeing and intoxicating, like the whole world was mine to explore. Like anything I touched out there would be mine for the taking. Johnny had enjoyed it too - it had dug up bizarre ties I didn't know he'd had to nomads. Even weirder was that he'd ridden with the <em> Aldecaldos </em> once upon a time, but didn't give me many details. Only that he'd been decent friends with Saul's predecessor, Santiago Aldecaldo. I'd brushed it off as if it had been a small, curious jaunt into the world of nomads to get away for awhile. </p><p> </p><p>He'd been with them <em> two fucking years.  </em></p><p> </p><p>So he and Saul had a mutual if strained respect for each other. He'd chipped in when he'd recovered, got used to the weight of a body again - helped out with repairs, worked alongside Mitch to fix Shit-heap up into something usable. And bizarrely, he'd also started getting along with Panam. I'd turned up late to dinner one night to hear them trading insults vile enough to be used on your worst enemy - except they'd compliment each other's attempts and keep digging. Eventually Saul had decided enough was enough when people's grandmothers were dragged into it. </p><p> </p><p>I saw Johnny crossing the parking lot with his hands under his jacket. Bless him - protecting little baby Daisy from the eyes of the mercs around us, with a duffle bag strap over his shoulder. He opened the passenger door to hand Daisy off to me like some shady dealing and begrudgingly climbed in back. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh! Oh, Daisy is a <em> dog </em> !" Panam exclaimed, and got a chipper, high-pitched bark in response. "Oh, she is so small, and so… So <em> tiny </em>!" </p><p> </p><p>Uh huh. "You wanna pet her?" I offered. </p><p> </p><p>Immediately she flinched. "O-Oh, no thank you. I don't really like dogs." she admitted, and gave me a sheepish smile. She quickly added, "She is very cute, though!" as if to apologise. </p><p> </p><p>Panam gave us a painfully slow ride back to our apartment, as if she was afraid to jostle the truck too much. Like my spine'd snap if she took a turn too fast or I'd be sick if she went over a bump too quickly. I directed her path, even if I felt like I was gonna pass out any second. I felt drained as all hell. </p><p> </p><p>"Here?" she asked. I nodded and she pulled in behind Shit-heap. Glorious Shit-heap - oh how I thought I'd never lay my eyes on her ugly rear ever again. "Oh," Panam said, delighted, "You still have that truck." </p><p> </p><p>"Unfortunately." grumbled Johnny from behind me. His hand squeezed my shoulder. "Sit tight, I'll come round to help." </p><p> </p><p>"Say bye bye, Daisy." I picked up one of her little front legs, and made her wave a little goodbye to Panam, who awkwardly waved back. Johnny came just on time to take her off me before I made the pup sign out more things or dance - fuck I was tired. "I'd invite you up," I said as Johnny offered me a hand, "But I feel like I'm gonna fall asleep as soon as we get in." </p><p> </p><p>She smiled warmly at me. "Don't worry, I can come by some other time. Go and get some rest, V." </p><p> </p><p>I took Johnny's hand and leaned heavier on him than I thought I'd need to to get down to the ground. He slammed the door shut behind me and offered me his arm again - normally I would've laughed at how helpful he was being, tell him it wasn't like him to be anything more than a hot piece of ass, but I needed it. Even while carrying the bag and Daisy, he managed to help haul me up onto the sidewalk. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks again, Panam. Tell Saul I owe you all." I squeezed her hand through the open window. "Maybe I can host a big dinner for you some time." </p><p> </p><p>"Think we'd need a bigger place for that." Johnny snorted. </p><p> </p><p>"Then we'll get a bigger place!" </p><p> </p><p>"Go and get some sleep, V." Panam said with a good-natured roll of her eyes. "Goodnight, V. Johnny."</p><p> </p><p>"G'night," I mumbled at the same time Johnny called, "Night, Panam," over my shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>He set Daisy down when we got inside, and she scrambled up the stairs, nearly tripping in her haste. Johnny swooped in heroically once more, lifting my weight up off my legs and into his arms. I nuzzled my face into his neck where it was warm. Fuck, had he always smelled this good? </p><p> </p><p>The door to the apartment opened when Johnny presented the key outta his pocket. It was as cold in here as it was outside - he grumbled about forgetting to shut the balcony door as he set me down on the edge of the bed. I yawned and sank down against the mattress as he rambled, did his things, fed Daisy. I was on the cusp of sleep, but didn't wanna go without him with me. </p><p> </p><p>When he still hadn't come to join me five minutes later, I made a grabby hand in the air to get his attention. I could almost <em> hear </em>the rolled eyes I knew I was getting. </p><p> </p><p>"Comin', princess." he snorted, and I cracked open my eye to see him stretching to take off his shirt in a way that was one, too sexy for my tired brain to appreciate and two, too evil for my tired brain to enjoy. I heard his belt buckle come undone and then when he was just in his boxers, he pulled back the blanket and slipped in beside me. He eyed my chest. "You gonna sleep in that?" </p><p> </p><p>I sat up to let him undress me. Usually there would be a rush to this sorta thing, a haste to get me naked as fast as possible. But he took his time, and there was no pressure. It didn't even feel sexy or intense like it would've ordinarily - just calm, normal. Comfortable. He pulled my shirt up over my head and wasn't excited by the sight of my tits, tugged my sweatpants off and didn't immediately start foaming at the mouth. He threw away my borrowed clothes on the ground somewhere behind me, promised to wash them tomorrow. He pulled me down to settle in a nest of pillows and blankets he built around us. </p><p> </p><p>And of course, Daisy howled at the foot of the bed until he scooped her up and she settled near our feet. </p><p> </p><p>"It's nice to be back." I mumbled against his chest, slowly growing warmer with his skin pressed against mine. </p><p> </p><p>He could've made a joke, a snide comment about how <em> of course, being home is preferable to being kidnapped </em>. But he didn't. Just hummed an, "Uh hm." and sighed. </p><p> </p><p>I'd been through shit, but I hadn't really considered his side. What his head had gone through, what his heart had felt. The physical toll was evident with the new scars and bruises that would one day heal, and the new grey hairs in his hair and beard that he'd pretend he didn't see. And knowing him, he'd claim he hadn't been through any emotional stress, had been fine the whole time. But even I could see he'd suffered, even without being there. He hadn't slept, hadn't eaten. Got so fucking angry at the world again that he'd almost snapped. </p><p> </p><p>I reached up, and ran my fingers down his cheek. Tucked a stray strand of dark hair that'd fallen into his closed eyes back behind his ear. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm here, baby," I murmured, "And I ain't goin' anywhere, not again." </p><p> </p><p>"I know you're not." he huffed, though his arm tightened around my back. "Go to sleep, V." </p><p> </p><p>I hesitated for a moment and settled down into his arms. Tucked my head down against the pillow, listened to the soft ins and outs of his breath. Rested my hands against his chest and felt the soft <em> thump, thump, thump </em>of his heart. He was asleep already. </p><p> </p><p>So I risked it. </p><p> </p><p>"Love you." I said softly, closed my eye over. Content to just leave it at that, happy to have it off my chest, even if he couldn't hear me. Was close to sleep myself when he made me jump. </p><p> </p><p>"Me too." he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. "Go to sleep, V." he said again, though I wasn't sure if I could now. </p><p> </p><p>I pressed my face into his chest and smiled. <em> This </em>was as contented as I was ever gonna feel. This was happiness. </p><p> </p><p>All thanks to the fucking biochip still in my head. </p><p> </p><p>… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>APRIL 29th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Watson, Little China … 11:34AM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It was a few days later that we headed to Vik's for the long appointment I'd booked the day before while on the phone with Misty. When we arrived, he was a bit more haggard for the whole experience, but still chugging on nonetheless. He welcomed me in and even addressed Johnny with a polite nod and a greeting which was new. </p><p> </p><p>I insisted he remove Johnny's arm before even looking at me. So he did, detaching the metal contraption from his flesh and making sure his motor functions were still alright. Only then did I let them sit me in that chair and try to address the sorry state I was in. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright, so, let's make a list of things we gotta look at here." Vik said, and the fact he even said the word <em> list </em>made me squirm. "Monowire-" </p><p> </p><p>"Don't care. Can stay gone." </p><p> </p><p>"Okay. Optics." I nodded, he got no fight back on that one, "A solution to your hand situation." again, just a nod. "Panic program too, and a general checkup?" </p><p> </p><p>"Sounds good, doc." </p><p> </p><p>The optics were easy enough to fix. Sure, Kiroshi had moved on a few tiers since my last upgrade - the best now being a Mk. VI compared to my lousy II - but he managed to find a match in his storage. "It's blue, but it's all I got. Either this one or we upgrade both eyes." so I took it. Heterochromia had always been something I'd wanted to try for funsies anyway, and just being able to see outta both eyes again was enough to make me not give a flying shit about it being the complete wrong colour. </p><p> </p><p>He neatened up the shitty removal job Maelstrom had done on my monowire next. Found panels pretty much the right shape, did a bit of tweaking, and cleared out cables which were now unnecessary, unneeded - covered up the now hollow spot in my wrists with the new panels. Whole thing made me a bit balk-y, but I managed to ignore it for the most part. </p><p> </p><p>Then came the fingers. Fuck, even as he was talking me through my options I wanted to be sick. I think I was probably the only person in NC to be squeamish at the thought of their own chrome. </p><p> </p><p>"So, any preference?" Viktor asked, once again flicking through the images on the screen in front of my face, "Considering we're only implanting fingers, not the whole hand, these will really only be cosmetic. No special features, wouldn't be strong enough to do anything without support." </p><p> </p><p>"Those ones are okay." I said, stopping on the set he showed off. Slender silver fingers, made up of multiple rings of metal and black cabling shown off under each joint. "Yeah, those will do." </p><p> </p><p>"Alright, lemme go get them from the back." </p><p> </p><p>They didn't really matter. Not when I was just desperate to have my left hand be of use again, not when I was struggling to do fucking <em> anything </em> because I had never taught myself to be ambidextrous. Johnny hovered nearby, studying the <em> Hand </em>that had been laid out by Vik after removing it. It was in parts, separated already; shoulder, upper arm, forearm, hand, fingers. Idly he picked one of them up, twisted it in his hand. Then, came over to me, offering it up. </p><p> </p><p>"Have one of mine." he said, and I raised a brow at him. </p><p> </p><p>"But that's <em> yours </em>." I replied, dumbly. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I know. And it'll be funny if your middle finger is unique - can flip 'em off, Silverhand-style." </p><p> </p><p>Slowly, I laid out my hand and accepted the finger he placed in my palm. It was cold and surprisingly weighty for just a finger - was my left hand gonna feel heavy with this new chrome? Then, I got a wicked flash of surprise through me as an idea clicked in place. </p><p> </p><p>"Are you proposin' to me, Johnny?" I teased, and he grunted in disgust. </p><p> </p><p>"I can easily take it back." he threatened, and I closed my fingers around the… Finger. </p><p> </p><p>"Too late. Mine now."</p><p> </p><p>No, it's okay. Panic over - <em> good idea to play it as a joke, V </em>. That could've been a whole lot more embarrassing otherwise. He didn't even think of it like that, phew. </p><p> </p><p>Plus… It wasn't even his ring finger that he was offering. </p><p> </p><p>Viktor returned with a little box that he opened up to reveal a full prosthetic hand. He was going to be tweaking things anyhow to use only the fingers, so I caught his attention. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny's offered me his middle finger and I wanna use it." I said, showing him the finger in my palm. "He can have the middle finger from this set." </p><p> </p><p>The ripper turned look at me over his shoulder. Did that old-person thing where he stared at me over the top of his glasses, before taking the finger outta my hand. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, fuck." he grumbled, "Remember to invite me to the wedding." </p><p> </p><p><em> What </em> ? So it wasn't just me. My eyes flashed over to Johnny and he scowled and turned his back on us to look at his arm again. I mean, giving me a piece of his chrome felt… Significant, if nothing else. Important. That arm had been a part of his life for so long, this <em> finger </em> had been part of him for just as long. And he was giving it to <em> me </em>, to replace the finger I'd lost? </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It's not his wedding ring finger, it's not his wedding ring finger, it's not his wedding ring finger.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Vik started work on figuring out how to attach them. The worst part about a process like this, he'd said - trying to come up with how to join chrome to flesh. He was trying to give me a play-by-play, telling me exactly how he was gonna go about this, how he was gonna do that. But I just nodded numbly and let him do what he thought was best. Didn't trust my gut not to churn and make my breakfast reappear. </p><p> </p><p>So in the end he figured out a decent way to connect it all up. He pumped me full of anaesthetic so I wouldn't feel a thing and began work; connecting fresh plates to my knuckles from between which the fingers would protrude, and started the slow process of wiring each one up to my system. Had to temporarily connect each to the jack socket in my wrist to check I could move them, and even if I couldn't feel them thanks to the anaesthetic, it felt weird as fuck to see them move at a command in my head. </p><p> </p><p>I'd never had chrome limbs before. Never needed them, and didn't want the upgrades - mostly preferred my equipment outside my body. So this was new, if a little jarring. Uncomfortable.</p><p> </p><p>"Am I meant to feel… Gross?" I asked, uncertain. Vik raised a brow at me and I knew no, no I wasn't. </p><p> </p><p>"I did." Johnny admitted, from where he was perched on a table nearby. His sole hand was resting on his thigh. "When I first got my arm fitted, felt like I was gonna throw up every five minutes. Took a long time for me to start usin' it, honestly." </p><p> </p><p>"How <em> did </em> you end up with that arm?" I asked testingly. He'd never explained and I'd never really tried to push it - it was a memory I had a hard time seeing, like he didn't want to remember it himself, never mind let anyone else see. </p><p> </p><p>He shook his head. "Don't wanna talk about it."</p><p> </p><p>I nodded. That was fair. </p><p> </p><p>"So you think it'll take me a while to get used to it?" I said instead, and he nodded. </p><p> </p><p>"You're squirmy about your ware, so I wouldn't be surprised if it took you even longer."</p><p> </p><p>Johnny's finger had to be attached differently. Shaped a little different to the others, and designed ideally for the way his fingers interlocked with the metal just beneath the flat plate for the back of his palm. So it needed extra support - Vik supplied that by adding in two thin bars from the top of the finger to the end of my stump, one on either side. It felt secure, as if it wouldn't fall off any faster than the others. </p><p> </p><p>Viktor released my hand after putting in a new, tiny screw to my shiny pinkie, "Alright, give it all a flex. Full movement, full bends. If anything feels too stiff, let me know." </p><p> </p><p>I did as he asked. I couldn't really <em> feel </em>it still, but things felt mostly smooth. I asked him to loosen up the bend of the final joint in my middle finger and then it felt perfect. He set an old cup down on the armrest and instructed me to pick it up. When I'd managed to pick it up, move it, and set it down again somewhere else without dropping it, he had me start picking up smaller things. Paperweights, pens, and then small screws. The fingers obviously wouldn't indent like actual skin, so it was tough to pick up small objects between my fingertips, but I still managed. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, I'd say we're done there then." he said approvingly, "Take this every three hours to help your body adjust to the new changes, it'll dull any pain." </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Vik. Really, I owe you." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I know. You're wracking up quite a bill now, kid." </p><p> </p><p>Still, I was pleased. I was starting to feel vaguely normal again. I slid up out of the operating chair to make way for Johnny - it was his turn. This was why I'd booked such a long session, because we both needed some help. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, V?" said Viktor idly as he started to piece together Johnny's arm again. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah?" </p><p> </p><p>"Could you go and have a little chat with Misty?" he asked, turning to look at me, "She's been worried sick 'bout you. Go settle her nerves, won't you?" </p><p> </p><p>It wasn't about settling her nerves, I knew, but <em> mine </em> . He wanted me to sit down and talk with Misty about what I'd been through. Have a therapy sesh while he sat down here in the gloom with Johnny. I had to give it to him though, it was a good attempt at manipulating me by making it <em> sound </em>like Misty was the one who needed help. </p><p> </p><p>Because I was always willing to help. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright." I said, not overly-enthusiastically. It was to let him know I was on to him, and even if he realised it, he just nodded gratefully. </p><p> </p><p>I headed up outta the dark clinic and into the back alley, that barely saw the daylight up above. Kicking my feet, I walked through the back door to Misty's, sticking my hands in my pockets and doing my very best to look immovable. Untouched. One hundred percent okay in the brain. </p><p> </p><p>Even if I wasn't. </p><p> </p><p>Misty didn't need to go deep-diving into my psyche. She had her own shit to worry about, and she wasn't a therapist, not really. Sure, spiritual healing was the thing she was good at, and sometimes it could help, but I wasn't sure if she could cure waking up in the middle of the night just to scream at something that happened in a dream. Johnny hated it when I did that, almost as much as I did. Had both of our hearts racing and the hairs on the backs of our necks on end. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, V." she said with a slow smile, turning round at her counter to address me. "What's up?" </p><p> </p><p>I withheld my groan. "Vik said you wanted to talk to me." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh! Yeah, I did." she stands upright, and I watched her go to light some fresh incense. "Come on, let's sit down." </p><p> </p><p><em> Fuck </em>, not the therapy chairs. Reluctantly, I walked on over and perched on the very edge whereas Misty comfortably sunk back into the reclined chair. </p><p> </p><p>"You can have a smoke if it'll make you feel better." she offered kindly, but I shook my head. I'd only had a few yesterday when I'd offered them to Johnny - it reminded him of them and we'd ended up having a few smokes. But the idea now made me feel sick. </p><p> </p><p>"Been thinkin' about tryna quit." I said, honestly, "I started 'cause of Johnny, and even he's been smokin' less and less." </p><p> </p><p>Misty nodded in agreement, "Bad for the body, bad for the soul." she offered me a smile, "I think it'll be good for you both to give it up. Addiction is a scary thing, and it'll be good to have each other to help fight it back." </p><p> </p><p>It fell silent and I fidgeted. Gave in and slid back into the reclined chair, resting my head back and staring at the ceiling. Misty rolled over onto her side to look at me, propping her chin up in her palm. </p><p> </p><p>"How are things, V?" she asked softly, gently. "How are you holdin' up?" </p><p> </p><p>I didn't want to get into it and yet there I was; craving to spill my guts to someone. I'd contemplated talking to Johnny about it, but I didn't want to burden him, nor did I think he'd really understand. Everyone's felt fear but I'd felt new kinds of it while in Maelstrom's company. It was a lot to unpack, and sure, Johnny was slowly opening up but he still wasn't emotionally mature enough to let me have that conversation with <em> him </em>.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh, I'm alright." I began, unsure of where else I could really even start. "Y'know, still readjusting to bein' back." </p><p> </p><p>She kept up that gentle little tone. "Struggling anywhere?" </p><p> </p><p>I shrugged. "I guess I'm more hyper aware now? Constantly lookin' over my shoulder." </p><p> </p><p>"That sounds a bit more like paranoia, V. And that's okay. I think that's normal for someone who's gone through what you have." </p><p> </p><p>She didn't press on me, just waited for me to talk on my own. One thing led to another and I started rambling; it all just came pouring out. How I'd insisted Johnny stay at After for some fun - I didn't <em> wanna </em> be a party pooper but I felt off, my drink had tasted funny so I thought I was coming down with something. How I'd felt sluggish and I'd gone down too easy, felt that shock of fear paralyse me when I got overwhelmed. I remembered how fucking <em> terrified </em>I was when my brain caught up to my body, when I'd had my eye ripped outta my skull. The agonising fucking pain that I'd screamed my lungs out to when he cut off my fingers one by one - they didn't go easily, he had to chop through the skin and the muscle and the bone. Misty sat with me out in the cold air when I thought I was gonna throw up talking about it. </p><p> </p><p>I ended up slumped into her side, feeling fucking drained. Like telling the story to someone had been like living it all over in fast-forward. I felt a little better though, having gotten it all off my chest. Now that it was out there, I didn't wanna think about it again. I didn't want to let their memory hold over me, making me weaker than I already felt. I was <em> V </em> for God's sake - no one got the better of me. Not for a second time, and I shouldn't have let those motherfuckers keep haunting me once I was sprung free. </p><p> </p><p>But it lurked. Fuck, it lurked. In the back of my head, just waiting for a weak moment to spring a memory on me. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry for unloadin' all this on you, Misty." I mumbled, and her hand rubbed at my back. </p><p> </p><p>"Nah, I'm glad you did, V. Do you feel any better about it all?" </p><p> </p><p>I sighed. "A little? I just wanna forget it all happened." </p><p> </p><p>"You always do with trauma, everyone does. But you'll see - it'll make you stronger, I'm sure of it. You're the type of person who doesn't give up, V, who always gets back up to punch harder than the guy who punched you. It might take a while, and it might be tough, but you'll make it through this." Misty squeezed me with both arms, before helping me sit upright. "You know where I am if you ever need to chat again, okay?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. T-Thanks, Misty." </p><p> </p><p>She offered me a dazzling smile and clambered to her feet, dusted off her behind. Then headed back inside the shop. For a little while I sat there in the alley mulling it over, listening to the sounds of the city at lunch break around me; cars beeping horns, the chatter of people, the occasional siren. A grid not far from me was letting out a steady stream of smoke, more consistent and constant than what came out of Johnny's mouth. Didn't wanna even know where vapours like that were coming from. </p><p> </p><p>My holo buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket to read the message. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>ASS-KING:</b>
</p><p>
  <em> Doc's finishing up now </em>
</p><p>
  <em> We can eat out </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Or I could eat u out, ur choice </em>
</p><p> </p><p>I rolled my eyes. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>YOU:</b>
</p><p>
  <em> Aight, we can go  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Maybe you can eat me out later ;)  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>ASS-KING:</b>
</p><p>
  <em> hell yes </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Maybe I ought to change his name. I mean, he was definitely being less of an ass lately, but he was still radiating king energy even if his ego would swell if I told him as much. So I made a little edit. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>KING OF ASS:</b>
</p><p>
  <em> where do u wanna go </em>
</p><p> </p><p>God, the snort that left me was so ugly that I was glad I was sitting in a dingy alleyway alone. That's how it needed to be - keeping chasing up those highs, those stupid little moments that made me smile. That way, I didn't have to think about any Maelstrom fuckers with their beady eyes in the back of my head.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>YOU:</b>
</p><p>
  <em> know any good tattoo places? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>APRIL 30th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Westbrook, North Oak … 05:46PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Johnny had been a little taken aback by my suggestion, but so readily accepted by decision with enthusiasm. Especially when I shared my ideas with him. He <em> really </em> liked the idea of Samurai lyrics tattooed across my hip - had been grinning like a little kid in a sweet shop as I got the famous chorus from <em> Never Fade Away </em> written on my skin in a pretty cursive font. And then, I insisted he get in the chair for his turn; had him completely at my mercy for whatever stupid idea I was gonna pick for him to wear forever. </p><p> </p><p>I got revenge the best way I knew how - getting even. </p><p> </p><p>Now on the inside of his forearm was a heart, same size as mine, with an arrow through it. The artist had used my own as reference for the scratchy font in which V + Johnny was written on the inside of the little heart. </p><p> </p><p>"Lame." he'd said, "You could've made me have anythin' and you stole my idea." </p><p> </p><p>But that was exactly what I wanted. I was sure his groupies or maddened fans had once upon a time had his name tattooed upon their skin - probably even in the same cheesy way Johnny had made me get mine. But no one had ever gotten <em> their </em> name on <em> his </em>skin. That was unique to me. </p><p> </p><p>Felt good as all hell to see my little name on his arm. </p><p> </p><p>We were on the way to Kerry's now. He'd been planning a little get-together that had <em> meant </em> to be kept a surprise but Johnny was terrible at keeping things, least of all parties, secret. Kerry had been hard at work for quite a while now trying to convince his old bandmates - <em> again </em>- to come together at his place for a little catch up. Hadn't tried to convince them to play together yet, wasn't gonna until he revealed his trump card. That trump card being Johnny Silverhand himself. </p><p> </p><p>So for now, I was attending under the guise of <em> "Oh hey, I'm that friend of Kerry's again that can, for some reason, play Silverhand with so much accuracy it's scary." </em>Johnny would be designated surprise until later - that was why he couldn't resist telling me, because he was frustrated he had to sit out of a party until Kerry chose to let him in. </p><p> </p><p>I was driving - trying to get used to my new fingers on the shift, clutch, on the wheel - so I stopped by the gate and pressed the buzzer. We were unfortunately downgraded back to Shit-heap again. Rogue had shipped off Johnny's baby to her trusted associate who was, in her words, "the car whisperer." She'd mentioned a name too that Johnny had recognised - something beginning with a, Italian sounding. Aurelio? </p><p> </p><p>Either way, it was in good hands. And maybe I could've tried to convince Johnny now was a good time to move on from the ugly green he'd picked for the back end of his Porsche. </p><p> </p><p>"Kerry, it's V." I said when the intercom clicked. He didn't like answering it, he was nothing if not predictable. </p><p> </p><p>It took a second, then he responded, "Oh, hey, V! Come on in." </p><p> </p><p>The gates rolled open and I drove on up Kerry's windy driveway. Johnny sunk lower into his seat the closer we got, to the point where he was almost lying down on the cab's couch. I ruffled his hair in my hand as I pulled on the break. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm sure Kerry won't leave you out here for long." I told him as I opened the driver's side door, "Let's hope, anyway. Can't leave the engine runnin' to keep you warm." </p><p> </p><p>"Bitch." he grumbled, and turned to fully lay across the seats as I got out. </p><p> </p><p>"Dick." I shot back. </p><p> </p><p>For perhaps the first time in my life, I entered Kerry's house by ringing the doorbell and waiting for him to open it. I'd broken in too many times to count, cracked his security even more, barged in uninvited thanks to either Johnny's peer pressure or straight-up control. So yeah, it felt a little weird to stand out there under the orange sky with the setting sun, just waiting to be let in. </p><p> </p><p>The front door slid open. "V! Come in, come in." Kerry greeted with one of his award-winning smiles, beckoning me past the threshold. I stepped in, and the door shut behind me. Kerry grabbed a hold of my jacket and tugged me aside, "Johnny with you?" he whispered. </p><p> </p><p>"'Course he is. Still in the truck." </p><p> </p><p>"Nice. Fuck, I can't wait to see their faces!" he did a little hop like a kid, before heading off through his home. "Come on, make yourself at home! Everyone else is already through here, come get a drink." </p><p> </p><p>"Is uh, Henry here?" I asked cautiously, keeping my voice down. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, and it's a fuckin' nightmare." he groaned, "He's doin' <em> everythin </em>' he can to piss Denny off." </p><p> </p><p>"Why you even invite him? He's an ass." </p><p> </p><p>"If anyone can get him to behave, it's Johnny. Maybe we can get a proper authentic Samurai vibe goin', y'know?" </p><p> </p><p>I <em> didn't </em>know, because I was an outsider here. I didn't know what an "authentic Samurai vibe" was like, only through Johnny's memories. And his weren't exactly pleasant. Memories of his group consisted of them being happy around each other for about five minutes, if he was lucky, before something dumb left his mouth that hadn't been considered in his brain. </p><p> </p><p>But I didn't say anything. Just followed him round the bend and left my jacket on the couch by the doorway to the room to the far end of the house, where his giant TV was idly playing through a music hits show from the early 2000s. The bar was fully stocked, thank fuck - we'd need it to help Denny put up with Henry's antics. </p><p> </p><p>He was in the middle of rambling some new nonsense at her when Nancy looked up and spotted me coming in besides Kerry. </p><p> </p><p>"V, hey!" she greeted, pushing up from the stool she was sat on to offer me her hand. I shook it, and didn't miss the curious little look she shot at my fingers. "It's been a while, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, a lot's happened." I said vaguely, rubbing the back of my neck, "How've you been, Bes? Many interestin' stories lately?" </p><p> </p><p>"Now that you mention it," she says with a little grin, "There's been a big buzz around Arasaka. Not my area of expertise, they don't exactly make music, but… <em> Definitely </em>interestin'." </p><p> </p><p>I raised my brows in fake surprise. "Yeah, sounds like someone fucked 'em up good." </p><p> </p><p>"Ugh, can we <em> not </em>talk biz?" groaned Denny from behind her - still lingering by the bar, her magnificent 'fro bouncing as she knocked back another shot glass. "Thought you said this'd be fun, Ker. So far I've just been hit with PTSD havin' to put up with this fuck head." </p><p> </p><p>Her thumb jerked over to one of the couches, where Henry was spread out across it. He gave me a lazy wave, and I could tell he didn't recognise me. Because one, he'd probably been high as fuck the one time we met in the past and two, was probably high as fuck now. </p><p> </p><p>"How is he still alive?" I wondered aloud, and got a laugh from Denny.</p><p> </p><p>"I like you more than last time, girl." she chuckled, "Drink?" </p><p> </p><p>"Please." </p><p> </p><p>I felt completely out of place here. Almost as bad as I'd been before that one show I'd performed with them, so full of jitters I'd actually been <em> excited </em> to knock back the psuedoendotrizine to let Johnny take over. This was his area of expertise, it was his gig. I deferred to his judgement on <em> his </em> friends, and <em> his </em>life. Plus, I'd be a fraud if they asked me to play there and then - we hadn't had the chance to start lessons yet. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, so," Kerry said suddenly once we were all settled with drink in hand, "I have a surprise for everyone, now we're all here." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh oh," laughed Bes - my brain kept trying to call her Nance out of habit, thanks to Johnny - and she rolled her eyes. "A surprise, Ker? I'm afraid now." </p><p> </p><p>"I'm not." Denny said with certainty, "What could be worse than walkin' in here and seein' <em> that </em>is already here?" </p><p> </p><p>Her eyes flashed only briefly at Henry - was he fucking asleep? I kicked his elbow and he jolted upright, blinking rapidly. </p><p> </p><p>"What gives? This couch is fuckin' comfy." he yawned, and stretched. </p><p> </p><p>"Kerry's got a surprise. Pay attention." I scolded, getting a quick golf-clap of approval from both Bes and Denny. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright." Kerry grinned, and rubbed his hands together. "V? You wanna go 'n grab it?" </p><p> </p><p>"Sure, sure." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny was almost asleep when I headed back out to Shit-heap. Shivering, but so close to dozing off that I actually had to open the door and half-contemplated climbing on top of him to wake him. Too much effort, though, so I smacked his knee - he jumped up so fast he almost headbutted the roof of the cab. </p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck?" he grumbled, running a hand through his hair. That should be illegal, holy fuck. Half-lidded, dark gaze, scratchy unshaven beard, sexy scowl on his face. Fuck. </p><p> </p><p>"Kerry wants you to go in now, but uh," I licked my lips, "Could I get a kiss first?"</p><p> </p><p>He quirked a brow, lips twitched. "I could do a whole lot more than kiss you."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I know." I put one foot up on the steps into the cab, hefted myself up to his height. Shrieked into a laugh as he banded his arm around my middle, pulled me on top of him. Last minute I caught myself, putting my hand on the dash so I didn't crush him. He probably wouldn't have minded though; he stuck his other hand in my hair and hauled me down to him, biting at my lip before slipping his tongue between them. <em> Fuck </em>, I'd asked for a kiss, not a one-way ticket to turn-on town. </p><p> </p><p>"Do we gotta go in?" he groaned against my lips, and I cocked my head at him. "Let's just stay here. I could fuck you in this cab." </p><p> </p><p>I rolled my eyes - from past experience, I knew he could. But I pushed up off him and managed to slide back down to the ground; not before hesitating near his crotch, obviously. He sat up to look at me with a glare when I didn't do anything. </p><p> </p><p>"Come on," I smiled, tugged on his hand, "Let's go." </p><p> </p><p>I wasn't quite sure what I was expecting, honestly. Maybe a reaction like Kerry's - a gunshot and maybe a faint. But I just led Johnny in, had a weird wash of surreal dejavu as I reintroduced a ghost to his old friends. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm not drunk enough for this." Denny decided, and poured herself another drink. </p><p> </p><p>Yet Bes, ever the intrepid reporter, asked the real question: "Is <em> anyone </em>gonna explain what the fuck is happening?" </p><p> </p><p>"I was definitely expectin' a bit more excitement, not gonna lie," Johnny drawled, leaning in to me to pretend to mutter. Both ladies still heard him. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, sorry, need us to squeal like your groupies?" she asked dryly, and then cleared her throat. Her voice reached a new pitch, "<em>Oh, Johnny</em>," she cried, "<em>You've been dead to the world for fifty years, I missed you!</em>" </p><p> </p><p>He grinned. "That's more like it, Nance." </p><p> </p><p>Denny slammed another glass down on the bar. "Fuck." she cursed. "It really is you. Goddamn." </p><p> </p><p>Bes folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at me. "So, what? This whole time you've been Johnny's… <em> Whatever </em>. That's why you knew how to play like him." </p><p> </p><p>I opened my mouth to begin the long process of explaining how wrong she was, but Johnny cut me off. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Whatever </em>means output, and yeah. She's learned from the best there is." he tapped his hand to his chest, smug-looking motherfucker. </p><p> </p><p>"No, no, no. Somethin's not addin' up." she refused, "There's no Samurai without Silverhand, even <em> I </em>admit that. So when we played last year, where the fuck were you? You wouldn't have missed out on that to send your output to play in your place." </p><p> </p><p>I glanced sideways up at him. He looked back at me. And then, reluctantly, I sighed. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, fine! It's a long goddamn story so sit your asses down, get comfy." </p><p> </p><p>Denny got drunker with every new twist of our tale. Bes got more excited - though Kerry managed to wrestle the recorder outta her hand. "Off the record, Bes, as friends," I asked, and she huffed but agreed. I left out some details, sticking to only the important details. Bes and Denny weren't best pleased to hear that I'd faked my way onto that stage - that I'd walked into that bathroom at that gig as V and came out as Johnny. </p><p> </p><p>"You felt off, to be honest." commented Denny as she nurtured a glass between her hands. She had such a distant look on her face, deep in thought. "I knew something felt different but- I don't know, couldn't put my finger on it." </p><p> </p><p>"That was me," Johnny leaned back into the chair, jerked a thumb to himself. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, you're what's wrong with everyone, usually." </p><p> </p><p>She probably didn't mean it so viciously, but goddamn, I felt second-hand pain at that. I mean, Johnny hadn't worked miracles to make his bandmates like him, but wow. While I continued telling my story with him occasionally chipping in - <em> ha </em>- I reached over to his lap where his hands were idly resting. Grabbed his metal one in my fleshy one and he didn't fight me on it; let me tug his hand over into my lap instead as I sunk down into the couch. Thankfully, no one noticed - or at the very least were too preoccupied with this dramatic story. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, great, interestin' story." said Denny with a wave of her hand - leaving me blinking in surprise at her dismissal of what would ordinarily be a weird fucking story. "But whaddya want?" </p><p> </p><p>"What do you mean?" I asked. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny <em> always </em>wants somethin'. He didn't come here to see us outta the goodness of his heart."</p><p> </p><p>My anger flared on his behalf. "That's not fair. He's missed you guys-" </p><p> </p><p>She barked a laugh before I could even finish what I was saying. Pulled a face like she was looking at something small and tiny, maybe fluffy. "Sweetheart, bless your little soul," she cooed, "You think you've changed Johnny fuckin' Silverhand? Once an asshole, always an asshole." </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Denny." Johnny said dryly, looking anywhere but someone else's face in that room. Bes hesitated taking her next sip, looking as if she really wanted to say something but wasn't sure where she should even start. Henry… Well, Henry was on the floor, and he hadn't moved in a while so I was starting to think maybe he was dead. And Kerry was staring hard at Johnny; a frown on his face, half-concerned and half-confused. After all, he'd spent a decent amount of time with Johnny, since his literal return from beyond the grave. He'd seen first-hand just how much Johnny had changed. And here Denny was, patronising us both, and Johnny wasn't even gonna try to defend himself? </p><p> </p><p>"I think you really are bein' unfair, Denny." I continued, as if she hadn't tried interrupting me, "Fifty years changes a lot-" </p><p> </p><p>It was Johnny this time. "V. Leave it." he sighed, tried to take his hand outta mine. Wasn't gonna let him, just squeezed the metal tighter in my hand - he probably didn't even feel it but it hurt me. </p><p> </p><p>"No, I'm not gonna leave it. Denny's bein' bitchy, and unnecessarily. I think I know a thing or two about that." </p><p> </p><p>Henry cackled from the ground. Fuck, he wasn't dead. </p><p> </p><p>"See? Ya grumpy old bitch, it's not just <em> me </em>!" he howled laughing, did a few back and forth across Kerry's floor. Ker himself stood up to stop him with his foot lest he make himself dizzy enough to vomit on his nice oak floor. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry, you've known him for… What?" Denny looked at me with a hard expression, setting her hands on her hips, "A year? If that. And you think you've got him all figured out, do ya?" </p><p> </p><p>"Bein' stuck sharin' head space is a pretty decent way to figure someone out, so yeah, I do!" I let go of Johnny's hand now - only to stand up to mimic her posture. "I know full-well how much of a dick to you he was, Denny, to all of you. I'm not 'scusin' it, neither. He was an ass. A huge one, that make you feel better?" </p><p> </p><p>"Don't need you tellin' me what I already know." </p><p> </p><p>Bes cleared her throat and poked at the bar. "I'm gonna get a drink."</p><p> </p><p>"V, I said leave it-" Johnny tried to grab me as if that'd shut me up, but I waved off his hand. </p><p> </p><p>I sighed. "Give him a chance, Denny! If I can forgive him bein' a bitch to me, while he was directly <em> killin' </em> me, I think you can find it somewhere in that enormous 'fro of yours to try ?" </p><p> </p><p>She glared at me for a little while, and I held it with ease. I regularly went toe-to-toe with Rogue, so Denny wasn't about to scare me. Plus, after the shit I'd been through recently, I think this was the least intimidating thing I'd faced; I think maybe even confessing my trauma to Misty had been scarier. </p><p> </p><p>I wasn't about to back down, either. I knew Denny had seen it, even if it was just very brief flashes; hints here and there of the man Johnny could've been. Strip away his trauma, his hate, give him a bit of patience, some love. There must've been moments, even if just very briefly, in Samurai's days together - when he was drained and vulnerable, or having a blast on stage and grinning at his band mates. </p><p> </p><p>If <em> I </em>had managed to see the good in him at my worst, then she must've at his best. </p><p> </p><p>"This defendin' my honour stuff is sweet and all, V," Johnny said in the silence that was thicker than his goddamn ass, "But she's not <em> wrong </em>. I do want somethin' from you all." </p><p> </p><p>Denny huffed out of her nose, and shook her head. "Fuck, I knew it. You're predictable, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>This time, I let Johnny's hand wrap around my wrist, pull me back a step, then his arm around my waist. Let him sit me back down. I was done defending him, then - if he was just gonna completely undermine me. In fact, I think I was done with this whole gathering. <em> Shit party, Ker </em>, I wanted to say. Managed to keep my fucking mouth shut for once as Johnny and Kerry brought up a potential return. A glorious, spontaneous, unannounced explosion on stage. Send the press reeling, have old and new fans alike losing their collective shit. </p><p> </p><p>"We could write new songs, bring back our flare!" Johnny was sitting on the edge of the couch now, his smile reaching his eyes. "It'll be just like the good old days." </p><p> </p><p>Denny crossed her arms. "And what makes you think I <em> want </em>to bring back the old days?" </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, okay," Kerry cut in quickly, holding up his hands, "Not the old days. A new version of Samurai - Samurai 2.0? Rebrand, new EPs, schedule as many live performances as we can get. I've put a lotta thought into this, really." </p><p> </p><p>Bes set her glass down on the bar, cocking her head at him. "Why?" </p><p> </p><p>"Why, what?" </p><p> </p><p>"Why do you give a shit about Samurai?" she snorted, "By all rights, you're a successful solo artist, Ker. You've kicked ass on your own, you've just started a new path in your career with those Japanese girls. You're doin' just fine without Samurai." </p><p> </p><p>"This isn't about success, Nance, this is about… About soul! About the music, the heart. That's really why we're all here." he passionately clenched a fist against his chest, and outstretched his other at her, "You! You're still in the industry even if you don't make music anymore, because you love it, deep down. Denny, you moved onto a new band because you didn't wanna let it go. Johnny fuckin' <em> died </em>and he's still rockin'. I wanna go back to that heart we had, Nance."</p><p> </p><p>"Whattabout me?" Henry drawled, taking a sip from the canteen in his hand. "What's my <em> soul </em>, Ker?" </p><p> </p><p>"Your soul's not even on this fuckin' earth with us right now, Henry." snorted Johnny, "And that's why you're good for Samurai. Keep us on our toes, fuck with our heads."</p><p> </p><p>"Hell yeah!" </p><p> </p><p>Denny groaned. </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh, since you can pull these outta your ass, then." I said, sitting up, "Why the fuck am I here?" </p><p> </p><p>Johnny smirked, and wound an arm around my back. "Because you're my biggest fan girl." he kissed my temple and when I gave him the dryest, blankest look I could manage, his voice lowered to a whisper, "Plus," he said softly, "You're the girl that saved my life."</p><p> </p><p>My heart stuttered, but I managed to play it off - pushed at his shoulder and snorted. "Fuck off," I rolled my eyes, he let me go. Fuck, I hadn't expected <em> that </em>. A joke maybe, another half-assed attempt like he'd pulled off to flatter drunk Henry. I still remembered that day in those fucking oil fields, when he'd asked me what I'd write if it was his real grave. If he really was buried down there, and I was the only one to sign his epitaph. </p><p> </p><p><em> Johnny Silverhand, the guy that saved my life </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Okay, so now I was forced to sit there all warm and fuzzy inside, trying my damndest not to show it. </p><p> </p><p>"And what are the promises it won't just fall apart like last time?" Denny asked, and Johnny snorted. </p><p> </p><p>"Well Nance got sentenced for murder last time, so all'll be good, so long she doesn't start killin' people again." </p><p> </p><p>"Don't plan on it." she said with an evil little smirk, held up her hands. She sighed, ruffled her short greying curls and shrugged. "Fuck it. Why not? Could use a bit of excitement to spice up my life. Plus, I'll get all the exclusives for my reports." </p><p> </p><p>"Fairly certain that's just… Unfair journalism." Kerry mused, but grinned. "Knew we could count on you, Nance. Henry?" </p><p> </p><p>"What?" he asked dumbly, fumbled with the cap of his flask. "Yeah, sure. I'm in. What're we doin'?" </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck me." Johnny groaned, buried his face in his hand. </p><p> </p><p>That got a snide little snicker from Henry, who then promptly slumped over onto his back to stare at the ceiling again. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright then, you're the last one, Den." Kerry said hopefully, clapping his hands together. "Come <em> on </em>. You know you want to. Even just one more show? We couldn't do it without our kickass drummer." </p><p> </p><p>"You're damn right you couldn't." she snapped, huffed a breath, and considered it all for a little while. Looked at the hopeful faces staring at her and threw her hands up in the air. "Fuck! Sure, fine! It's not like I got anythin' better to do." </p><p> </p><p>"Hell yes!" Johnny threw his hand in the air, got to his feet to pull Kerry into a bro-hug as he went. I smiled at their success, but started to feel… Weird again. Severely fucking out of place. The group came together by the coffee table, and finally, Denny showed Johnny a bit of warmth. A tiny grin, a light punch to his shoulder as Kerry began babbling about the first show he'd been considering. I sunk into the couch and swirled my drink around in my glass. I was happy for Johnny, but I felt almost like <em> I </em>was just the ghost in his head. Awkwardly seeing memories and bonds he had but kept buried - an outsider looking in. </p><p> </p><p>"You'll come to the show, won't ya, V?" asked Kerry, bringing me back to reality. </p><p> </p><p>I cleared my throat, wet my lips. "Uh, I… I'm not sure, Ker. I'm still feelin' a bit off. Actually, I think-" I got to my feet and set my glass down, "I think I need some air." </p><p> </p><p>"You okay?" Johnny asked out of reflex, and I waved him off. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm fine. Just a bit dizzy." </p><p> </p><p>Fuck, the pills weren't meant to wear off that fast. I made a beeline for the back door and stepped out onto Kerry's back porch, stared hard at the distant skyline of the city. And then, I sunk down onto the hard concrete and breathed outward. </p><p> </p><p>I mean, I would've enjoyed seeing a Samurai concert, properly - live, not on a shitty bootleg like I had before. I could imagine seeing Johnny up there, in his element, would probably bring about a weird sense of pride, of <em> fuck yes, that guy up there, kicking ass? He's my input </em>. Still… The thought of going to a club or a venue, packed full of people, dark and gloomy, shit, it made me sick with anxiety. Anyone could jump me in a place like that. I let my guard down for even a second? Fuck. </p><p> </p><p>But I couldn't ruin this for Johnny. This was his chance to reclaim something he'd lost, and I wasn't going to take that away from him. </p><p> </p><p>I felt a hand on my back and I jumped. Johnny settled down next to me with a little grunt, and I shook my head at him. </p><p> </p><p>"Why're you out here with me? Go in and see your friends." I laughed, "You've seen my face every day for the last year."</p><p> </p><p>"Not every day." he said in such a suddenly serious tone that it sorta took me aback. I sighed, and jerked my head at his arm for him to lift it. I sunk down against his shoulder as his metal hand found its way to settle on my waist. </p><p> </p><p>"You know I'm not goin' anywhere, Johnny." I reminded him again, "I only came out to get some air." </p><p> </p><p>"I know. You take those pills?" </p><p> </p><p>"Took them before we left. Didn't think they'd wear off so fast." </p><p> </p><p>His hand squeezed at my hip, and he huffed a sigh. "You really don't think you'll come to the gig?" he asked, and I shrugged sorta limply. </p><p> </p><p>"I want to, but I don't want to ruin it by makin' you worry about me. Don't know how well I'll do in the crowds, really." </p><p> </p><p>"What if you watch from backstage? Ker can arrange it all." </p><p> </p><p>I smiled at his determination. "I'll think about it, okay? We'll see how I feel closer to the time." </p><p> </p><p>"Sure. I mean, if you don't feel up to it, then I can't make you." he said with a sigh. I knew that face - he'd made the same sad little puppy dog eyes at a mirror when he knew Alt wasn't gonna be there after a show. Then he used to slap himself and go out on stage with a moody glare befitting an eternally-angsty teenager. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny?" I asked. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah?" </p><p> </p><p>"Gimme a kiss." </p><p> </p><p>He huffed softly, a tiny smile gracing his lips. "Come 'ere then." he beckoned at me with his other hand, then tapped at my chin. I let him lead me up to his lips, savouring his very rare gentleness. And then for a little while, we sat there staring over Night City. </p><p> </p><p>The city that, once upon a time, we were gonna burn. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoyed this relatively-drama free chapter! Giving my babies a bit of rest for a little while, haha</p><p>Also, if you caught the John Wick reference this chapter, good job! </p><p>I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr! You can come chat (or scream) with me about Cyberpunk there, or in the <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Cyberpunks discord server</a> which I'm quite active on!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Aurelio</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Me a few days ago: haha, I'll throw in Aurelio's name as a jokey reference</p><p>Me now: Uhhhhh</p><p>If you couldn't guess by the name of the chapter, I got a little carried away with the Aurelio reference. Whoops?</p><p>This chapter also has a bit of filthy smut attached with it over in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28937679/chapters/71002134">spicy chapters</a>. I'll edit this note when I've updated that over there too.</p><p>EDIT: it's <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28937679/chapters/71464497">here</a>, go wild, my fellow thirsty bitches.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>MAY 05th, 2078 / JOHNNY</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Heywood, Wellsprings … 9:56AM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Fuck. Once upon a time, summer wouldn't start until June, maybe July. Usually I <em> thrived </em> in summer, as an excuse to walk around without a shirt on and see equally hot babes round town in just bikinis. But, since Night City had such a depressing beach situation, there'd be no such thing as the usual <em> Johnny's Summer Extravaganza.  </em></p><p> </p><p>It's okay. I'd settle for seeing V in a skimpy bikini at a pool. </p><p> </p><p>Speaking of… I rolled over onto my side, reaching out blindly without opening my eyes. Sure enough, my metal palm came into contact with smooth skin, and a delightful little moan sounded in my ears as I ran my hand over her hip and round her stomach. </p><p> </p><p>"Your hand's so cold." she sighed dreamily, "Just touch me everywhere." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted, shuffling closer to press my chest to her back. We were both sweaty from the heat, clothes abandoned in the middle of the night to the crushing air, but I didn't give a fuck. I let my hand wander down, across the soft skin of her thigh, gently guiding it up and outta my way. She shifted half onto her back, pressing into me, catching that cute little bottom lip between her teeth and I hadn't even done anything yet. </p><p> </p><p>It was hot as fuck, but she was hotter. </p><p> </p><p>We were just about to get to the good bit when my own voice interrupted us. Not me - a recording of <em> Chippin' In </em>, when my voice was at its goddamn prime. Can't believe she thought Kerry's was better… </p><p> </p><p>"Ignore it." I grumbled, batting away her hand that reached for the holo on the bedside table. "Fuck 'em. Look at me." </p><p> </p><p>When she hesitated, I ran my tongue over my teeth in annoyance. I grabbed her chin and turned her to face me - kept a tight hold of her until the ringing stopped. Stared her down the whole goddamn time. And when it fell silent again, I let her go with a little smirk.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, if you want me all to yourself," she murmured, running her fingers down my chest. "The least you can do is kiss me." I chuckled; sure, I could do that. Lean down to kiss her while my fingers slipped between her legs, hear <em> and </em>feel the gasped moan against my mouth. Fuck, she was so-</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Blaze your way down the rebel path! Hear my call, I'm chippin' in- </em>" </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, get the hint!" I snapped, but before I could even stop her this time, she pushed at me and sat up to grab her holo. "Seriously?" </p><p> </p><p>"It could be important." she said all too firmly, leaving me alone on the bed as she got to her feet to answer it. I huffed, slumping back down on the mattress. Fuck, I'd have to wash the sheets again already thanks to the fresh and lovely layer of sweat on them. I <em> hated </em>laundry. </p><p> </p><p>Daisy was pottering around on the floor after V's feet. I mean, I could've just laid back and enjoyed the view of her slender, creamy legs - stared at her ass as she idly wandered around the apartment as she talked away into her holo. Instead, I found myself clicking at the pup to get her attention, and cheering in victory when she chose to come play with me instead. Plucked her up onto the bed with me and gave her well-deserved tummy rubs. </p><p> </p><p>I mean, she hadn't done anything. But she was a puppy, and puppies deserved tummy rubs if nothing else. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright, that's great. Thanks for lettin' me know." V gave a final little nod even if her cam was off, and set her phone down on the kitchen counter. She turned to me. "It was that guy Rogue gave your car to, said she's almost ready. What was his name?" </p><p> </p><p>"Aurelio. Good guy." I yawned, pushed the hair outta my eyes. That was a man I hadn't seen in a long time - felt like a whole other lifetime that I used to get my cars seen to by him. Best in the biz, though. "Now get your ass over here. I'm finishin' what I started." </p><p> </p><p>Her shoulders slumped. "I wanna get a shower." she whined. </p><p> </p><p>"More than you want me to eat you out?" </p><p> </p><p>That gave her pause. </p><p> </p><p>"V, if you don't get over here in the next five seconds, I'll come and get you." </p><p> </p><p>She crossed her arms over her breasts, a little challenging smirk now on her face. "Oh?" she asked, "And what'll you do over here?" </p><p> </p><p>I sat up on my elbows, quirked a brow at her. "I'd eat you out on that goddamn counter, that's what. Or I'll throw you over my shoulder and drag you back here. Really, your only choice is to be a good girl and come 'ere, sit your pretty ass down on my lap." </p><p> </p><p>She licked her lips. Fucking minx. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm gonna go get a shower." she decided. I managed to get outta bed and catch her in the bathroom, against the counter. Eh, it would do. </p><p> </p><p>Once we'd both showered and decided fuck getting dressed, V gave me an order to find something to eat for breakfast. Unfortunately for her, it didn't look like we had much in the way of food stocked in the kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>"V, where'd you put the keys?" I asked idly, stretching behind the kitchen counter. I'd left them on the corner, where what was <em> meant </em>to be a fruit bowl sat. We'd never actually had any real fruit - refused to eat that synth-garbo - so I'd repurposed it to stash our keys. Except now the bowl was empty. </p><p> </p><p>"Huh?" she asked from where she was lounging on the bed, on top of all the sheets. She was tossing a tiny ball at the far wall for Daisy to go fetch and bring back. </p><p> </p><p>"The <em> keys </em>, V. I put them in the bowl last night, you move 'em?" </p><p> </p><p>She frowned at me. "I haven't touched 'em." </p><p> </p><p>"You sure?" </p><p> </p><p>"One hundred percent. You had 'em, you must've misplaced 'em. Mine is in my jacket pocket I think." </p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, once I'd scavenged through the trail of clothes we'd made between the front door and the bed, I found her key to the apartment in her the pocket of the cropped leather jacket she'd worn yesterday. Still, wasn't mine. Where the fuck had I put mine? And what about the key to Shit-heap? </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny," V whined, "I'm hungry!" </p><p> </p><p>"Me too, bitch, you're not special. Help me find me keys and we can go out for food." </p><p> </p><p>She groaned. "Go <em> out </em>? In this heat? You're jokin'." </p><p> </p><p>"I'm not, we've got no food." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck. Shit. God, I hate my life." </p><p> </p><p>She found the keys - grats to her I guess. Weirdest part? They were on the table out on the balcony. </p><p> </p><p>"Left them out there when you went for a smoke maybe." she suggested idly while she dug through our wardrobe; searching for clothes to wear that wouldn't, "stick to every fuckin' inch of my skin<em> . </em>" She eventually settled on a loose tank and a pair of denim shorts that were just a little too long for me to really see her ass, which was a shame. </p><p> </p><p>"Nah," I shook my head and caught the tank in my size she threw at me, "Didn't have a smoke last night. Maybe Daisy decided to play with them." </p><p> </p><p>She snorted and slipped her feet into some lace-ups. "Yeah, because she would've placed them perfectly on the table." </p><p> </p><p>It was definitely weird as fuck, but I couldn't think too hard about it with nothing in my stomach. I fetched Daisy's leash and as we left the apartment, I carried her carefully down the stairs. If I didn't, she'd race down them and go tumbling. </p><p> </p><p>"So where are we goin'?" I asked, and pulled a face when she rounded to the driver's side of Shit-heap. </p><p> </p><p>"I texted River, we're gonna meet him at Chubby Buffalos." she replied with such a straight face, I almost didn't get in. </p><p> </p><p>"And why the fuck are we meetin' him?" </p><p> </p><p>"Because I gotta give him his eyepatch back, and thank him among other things." </p><p> </p><p>I huffed, and clambered into the seat after Daisy when I lifted her up. Shut the door behind me and instantly wound down the window - fuck it was claustrophobically hot in here. Sun was beating down on the metal roof over our heads, and I knew for a fact that the air conditioning didn't work for shit in this thing. I knew what death felt like, and I didn't wanna sound dramatic. But this heat felt like it'd push me to it a second time. </p><p> </p><p>"You haven't thanked me for savin' your ass." I grumbled as Daisy jumped up into my lap to stick her head curiously out of the window. V took us down the street, stopped at the red light. She glared at me, but she was smiling, so it didn't count. </p><p> </p><p>"I suck your dick on the regular, I think that's enough thanks." </p><p> </p><p>"Y'know, fair. I'll give you that." </p><p> </p><p>I was thankful V had, among other things, inherited some of my sense of fashion while I was stuck in her brain. She'd kept my aviators the whole goddamn time and I would never <em> not </em>silently thank her every time I looked out at the bright streets with them on my nose. Since I'd stolen them, after she'd stolen them from my stuff, she now had her own pair that she'd reluctantly paid money for. She looked good in them though - rocked aviators better than any other girl I'd seen in them. But maybe I was biased.</p><p> </p><p>"Whattya lookin' at?" V asked with a little smile. Glanced sideways at me, and then quickly back at the road. </p><p> </p><p>I answered cooly, "You. Why?" </p><p> </p><p>"Because you're lookin' pretty fuckin' intently." </p><p> </p><p>"And is there a problem with that?" </p><p> </p><p>"Nah. Just worried there was somethin' on my face." </p><p> </p><p>She never tied her hair back, but even V would sacrifice form for function in this awful heat. It was bundled up into a ponytail at the back of her head, but the shorter layers near the front still hung uselessly in front of her eyes. Every time she huffed at the weather or the traffic, they'd go dancing in the little wind she made. She hadn't even tried to hide the trio of hickeys down the right side of her throat. Good - Ward'd be reminded that he's not even competition anymore. </p><p> </p><p>Hilarious to think I'd still won even when I didn't have a fucking body. </p><p> </p><p>She pulled into the lot of Chubby Buffalos, which wasn't nearly as packed as I would've thought it'd be midday. River wasn't here yet, so V picked a spot overlooking the actual river to throw us into park. I got comfy; set Daisy up with free reign play in the shut bed out back, perched myself on the roof of the cab. After V had gone in for drinks to save us from melting in this sun, I took her hand and helped her up to sit by me. </p><p> </p><p>"Y'know," she said idly while sipping at her straw, "I'm really surprised no one's recognised you yet. And I mean like, some rando gonk on the street." </p><p> </p><p>I shrugged. "Most of my actual fans probably either gave up on me after 2023, or started worshippin' fuckim' Ker. And not enough kids these days listen to real music." </p><p> </p><p>"Well that's not true," V said quickly, "Have you not seen that graffiti around town? Who knows how old it is - just those little eerie <em> Where's Johnny? </em>" </p><p> </p><p>There was a weird, churning feeling in my gut at that - people had really thought I'd bring about some sorta change with my actions. When I'd gone and died - or disappeared in their eyes - they hadn't completely given up that hope. Hurt a little to think I had never really accomplished what they'd expected. </p><p> </p><p>"Padre said Samurai were talentless." her lips twitched when my head snapped round to look at her. "Yup, that's what he said. <em> Talentless, angry, skezzed out kids </em>."</p><p> </p><p>I pulled a face. "Okay, I'll give him the angry part. Otherwise? Fuck him, grumpy old man." </p><p> </p><p>"You're probably older than him." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck 'im." </p><p> </p><p>"I'd rather fuck you, to be honest." </p><p> </p><p>I grinned at her, leaned close. "You already did this mornin'." I tapped at her chin; very same chin I'd held rigid in my grip not an hour earlier for very different reasons. "You need remindin' already?" </p><p> </p><p>She bit on the bait, inched closer so that she was literally an inch away. Fuck, it was already hot and sweaty as it was, didn't need her breathing on me and making it worse - but it only made it <em> better </em>. </p><p> </p><p>"So what if I do, rockerboy?" she teased, biting her lip. And I was a goddamn fucking second away from biting that lip too when a horn beeped so loud it made us both jump. </p><p> </p><p>River's truck pulled up beside ours. I didn't even try to hold in my groan, and set my head in my hand when V turned to greet him. <em> Fuckin' cockblock. </em> Already had enough of that this morning. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, V." I heard him call in his obnoxiously charming, growly voice. Motherfucker. "What the hell is this thing?" </p><p> </p><p>I glanced over to see him putting a hand on the edge of Shit-heap's bed. Why did <em> that </em>piss me off too? It was fucking Shit-heap. </p><p> </p><p>"Our ride." V said with a laugh, "Did have a fancy little Porsche, but it got fucked up a bit so it's in for repairs." </p><p> </p><p>Daisy chose then to bark at the strange, unwanted stranger peering into her play zone. River grinned at her, offered her his hand to smell, but like a good little pup, she stayed sitting between my feet. </p><p> </p><p>"Pictured you more as the big dog kinda gal, bein' honest." he said, still expertly ignoring me and looking up only at V. </p><p> </p><p>"Eh," she shrugged, "Big dogs are more Johnny's thing. I had a Beagle just like her when I was a kid." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, I think I've had more interesting conversations with myself." I moaned, throwing my head back to stare at the bright sky. I think I'd rather burn out my retinas than sit here and listen to this. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, stop bein' a bitch. Won't take long." V slapped my knee and I <em> almost </em> jerked from the hit - <em> almost </em>stepped on Daisy's tail. Maybe I should've just to make V feel bad. "Anyway, River, I just wanted to say thanks. For helpin' me, and Johnny. And for the eyepatch too." </p><p> </p><p>She dug around in her pocket and offered it out to him. In her left hand - even a blind man could've been able to tell her middle finger didn't match the others. That it was <em> my </em>fucking finger. His eyes lingered on her outstretched palm for a while, then he shook his head. </p><p> </p><p>"Nah, keep it. It was about time I let it go anyway." he decided, chivalrously. I rolled my eyes. </p><p> </p><p>"I don't need it anymore. Plus, it's your good luck charm! I can't keep it." </p><p> </p><p>"V-" </p><p> </p><p>I groaned. "She doesn't want your gift, fuckhead. Just take it back already." </p><p> </p><p>V huffed. "Eloquent, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>"You know it." </p><p> </p><p>River hesitated again, then reluctantly reached up to take the eyepatch outta her hand. "Blue suits you, by the way," he said idly as he pocketed it, poked his other hand in V's direction. "You'd look pretty with matching." </p><p> </p><p>Fuck. Guy was so desperate it hurt <em> me </em>to watch. Even I, of all people, knew it was bad news to tell a girl she'd look pretty on a condition. Compared to him, I actually liked V's odd eyes now - made her look as goddamn wild as she really was. Didn't show it in front of most people but fuck she was a psycho. Little wildcat, all claws and teeth. Liked being tamed, too. </p><p> </p><p>"Would it surprise you to know my eyes are naturally brown?" she snorted, "I prefer the red, honestly. Anyway, we haven't eaten breakfast yet - what's good here?" </p><p> </p><p>I noticed how she hadn't actually invited River to dine with us. Clever girl. She was supposedly friends with him, sure, but <em> I </em>was friends with Rogue. And Rogue wasn't constantly tryna get into my pants, so who gave him any right? V was all mine, fair and square. I would suffer his presence a little easier if he just gave up. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck, I was bored. I let them ramble on about food options on the menu and hopped outta the truck, taking Daisy down with me when she barked after me. We walked to the end of the lot, with her bounding around and barking at me but still staying super close to my legs. She was a smart pup - I mean, V was right, a tiny dog like a Beagle wouldn't have been my first choice. But she was smart and loyal, perfect traits in a companion. I'd hung around cats a decent amount because they were easy, could look after themselves, but they just could <em> not </em> grasp loyalty the same way dogs could. Dogs would take a bullet for their humans. Cats would come and eat out the eyeballs post-mortem. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe I could convince V that Daisy needed a friend. When we got a bigger place, maybe we could get another dog; big German Shepherd, maybe, if those were still being bred. Ooh, or a Great Dane. Now <em> that'd </em>be awesome. </p><p> </p><p>I looked over the river with Daisy sat between my feet, and did something I hadn't done in a few days; reached into my pocket, and had a smoke. V had announced her plan to quit, said Misty had brought it up. So, I figured I'd probably try too. I definitely wasn't having as many as I used to but she was right, "Bad for the body, bad for the soul." I'd been smoking for as long as I could remember, and it was probably a real good thing I'd been forced to have a what, sixty year break? Otherwise my lungs would be fucked to hell and back now. </p><p> </p><p>Why did I start? <em> When </em> ? Because it was edgy, because I'd seen other rockers do it? It couldn't have been that petty. I wasn't in the military when I started, that sorta shit was banned - or at the very least, you'd be reprimanded if caught and I was already having enough of those. Had to be after, then. Before I met Ker? Probably during that blur of a phase in my life after deserting the field in the Mexican conflicts; when I'd spent so long waiting to die that I didn't know how much time had really passed. Maybe I was too afraid of the hard drugs that made you really <em> feel </em>something. Instead, I got myself addicted to nicotine and made that nasty habit rub off on my girlfriend. </p><p> </p><p>So I wasn't really surprised she'd decided to quit, but I was proud in a weird way. That in such a short time she was breaking such old habits, and tryna kick me in the ass to do the same. </p><p> </p><p>I heard V coming over before I saw her. Her steps were light but she could sneak all she wanted, Daisy wouldn't let her approach without announcing her presence to the whole lot. She pressed into my side, put an arm around my middle, and I lifted my own to put it round her shoulders if she insisted on being so close. </p><p> </p><p>"River's recommended this place," she said absently, "Lots of greasy food, just how you like it. You hungry?" </p><p> </p><p>I was but right now it felt like it didn't really matter. My head was up in the smog clouds above, still wasn't quite back down to the waking world again. </p><p> </p><p>Her hand rubbed at my back. "Hey, you okay-" </p><p> </p><p>"I want you to talk to River." I said suddenly, and she leaned back a little surprised. Sighing, I rubbed at my face, "I'm tired of seein' him flirt so painfully weak with you, V. Asshole isn't gettin' the hint that you're off the market."</p><p> </p><p>Her lips twitched. "Oh my God, you're jealous." she said, so delighted by the idea that she started grinning. "Wow. Holy shit."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not jealous, 'cause he's got nothin' for me to be jealous over." I grumbled, <em> "I </em>know who you'd rather fuck. He doesn't." </p><p> </p><p>"Chill, Johnny, it's okay-" </p><p> </p><p>"No it's not." </p><p> </p><p>"Yes it is, because I love you." she said, and suddenly my argument just dried up in my throat. Her grin faded to just a soft little smile, and she stood upright to set her chin on my shoulder. "I'll talk to River, okay? Ask him to back off a bit, remind him we're just friends. But while we're at it, I hope you know I'll rip Rogue's face off if she so much as touches you." </p><p> </p><p>I rolled my eyes. "<em> Rogue </em>would tear Rogue's face off if she touched me." </p><p> </p><p>"Just coverin' my bases." she laughed, then slipped her arm free from my waist. She tried to waltz off but I tightened my arm around her, brought her back, yanked her between me and the barrier. Her cheeks were a pretty shade of pink to match her fading dye when I pressed up against her, and she eagerly turned her head up to meet my kiss. A pretty little hum left her as I sunk my fingers into her hair, squeezed her hip in the other. When I pulled away, she was a little breathless. "That's unfair," she whispered, "You can't kiss me like that in public." </p><p> </p><p>I smirked. "There wasn't even any tongue." </p><p> </p><p>"Exactly. Way too romantic for you, Johnny, made me wanna strip right here." </p><p> </p><p>That got a snort outta me. Before I let her go, I realised I hadn't quite responded to something she'd said earlier. </p><p> </p><p>"Love you too." </p><p> </p><p>Felt nice saying it. Felt nice <em> meaning </em>it. Most of all, it felt good to just admit it. Let it off my chest without making it a big deal, without making it dramatic. Just casual and comfortable, like it should be. </p><p> </p><p>She grinned, and pulled at my hand. "Good," she said, delighted, "Let's go eat. C'mon, Daisy, let's go, baby."</p><p> </p><p>The little pup gave a fierce, high-pitched <em> arf! </em>at our feet and chased after us as V led us back towards the diner. Fuck, where River was waiting by the door. </p><p> </p><p>"This fine establishment has got a no-dog policy you know." River warned when we got close. </p><p> </p><p>I shrugged. "Then they shouldn't let you in." </p><p> </p><p>V looked at me and gaped in second-hand pain. Whilst she was absolutely horrified <em> and </em>delighted by my response, River didn't even twitch.</p><p> </p><p>"It's fine, she'll sit by our feet and be good." V said with a shrug. </p><p> </p><p>"Doesn't change the fact they'll probably try to kick you out." he was smiling now though - at her. Fucker. <em> Fucker fucker fucker fucker fucker </em>-</p><p> </p><p>"And they'll change their minds when they see how cute she is, and how much food we're gonna order." </p><p> </p><p>It was more of a smuggling process, with me masking Daisy's little shape behind my feet as we walked in, found the nearest open booth, and sat in it. Just like V had guessed, Daisy was a good girl who sat perfectly in between my foot, and V's foot to my right. Didn't make a peep. </p><p> </p><p>I let V order for me while I tried to look busy on my holo. I did have things to take care of, I guess - Kerry had sent me a flurry of texts asking for my opinion on this, my opinion on that. He'd already booked a slot in a venue - for tomorrow night at that. Just a small club out the way, more a bar with live performance for up-coming artists. Well, it was unassuming enough to be good for our first test as Samurai 2.0, just a little pinkie toe dipped in the water. But we'd rock the place loud enough to cause a shit storm in the music industry. </p><p> </p><p>Back in the day, I shouldn't have been involved so heavily in the production and organisation of our shows, but I was obsessive. I micromanaged when I should've just stepped back and let people do their jobs, insisted on having it this way, the drumkit there, lights set this colour, effects playing at this time. It was unnecessary, really, but I needed to find ways to keep myself busy between performing other than booze and sex. If I sat down for too long with nothing to do my mind would creep up on me and the fucker was relentless. </p><p> </p><p>But the idea of doing that now, to having an answer to everyone of Kerry's questions? Fuck, I felt tired just scrolling through it. V and River chatted away beside me after the waitress went off with our order, and I scratched at my head to answer some of them. Did I give a shit about <em> any </em> of the stage props? What about the ambience? <em> Merch </em>? Al-fuckin'-ready? </p><p> </p><p>The only thing I could give a damn about was the tech working well enough to make us perform as well as we once did, and my vocal chords being warmed up enough to pull off the sorta screams I used to. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck, my throat just hurt thinking about how hard I was gonna go tomorrow. </p><p> </p><p>"Kerry with more questions?" V asked, leaning into me to peer at my screen. I nodded idly, and quickly typed out a <em> up to u </em> and hit send. Not exactly specific enough to answer <em> anything </em>he asked, and I knew he'd probably have a little fit seeing how dismissive I was about it and ask if I was actually back, or if Arasaka had fucked with my personality on that engram. But my food was here and I was fucking ravenous.</p><p> </p><p>"So that's what you two do for fun?" River asked as he picked at his fries. "Johnny does his gigs and you… What?" </p><p> </p><p>V snorted. "Yes, I'm boring, all I do is work, work, work. And this is actually Johnny's first gig in a long time." she elbowed me, "Gonna shake up the world again with your music, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>I rolled my eyes. "Sure." </p><p> </p><p>The drive wasn't quite the same as it once was. When I'd formed Samurai, I wanted an outlet, a way to scream out my frustrations, and I'd somehow poured that into writing songs with Kerry. People had taken our words and made them into a revolution all their own. Back then I'd been glad, fucking relieved it was paying off and had the hope that maybe someday, it'd be enough to change something in this fucked-up world. Now? I wasn't sure what I wanted. I was still angry at the powers above but I had other things to devote my time and energy to nowadays. I wasn't just all-consumed by that hatred in my gut. </p><p> </p><p>So if I were to write music nowadays, what the fuck would it sound like? Idea scared me. </p><p> </p><p>All I'd known when it came to my music was anger. Violence and resentment. Sure, I still wanted to take the fight directly to Arasaka, tear them off their golden throne and paint it black. But a little nag stealing my fries made me at the very least consider the risks. </p><p> </p><p>"So what do <em> you </em>do for fun then, River?" V asked, setting her chin in her palm. I slipped Daisy a fry, and she gobbled it up, licking the salt off my fingers. </p><p> </p><p>He shrugged. "Eh, y'know. The usual." </p><p> </p><p>"You're a workaholic too then." </p><p> </p><p>River snorted at her, took a sip of his drink to clear his throat. "Nah, I do actually enjoy hobbies, believe it or not. Love a bit of cooking, but you knew that already. Go shooting sometimes too." </p><p> </p><p>"So… Work?" </p><p> </p><p>"No, V, Jesus," he laughed, "There's a shootin' range near Joss' place. Got a bunch of different challenges and stuff to keep you sharp. I could take you sometime." </p><p> </p><p>I was <em> this </em>close to growling like a fucking dog when V chipperly suggested, "I think it'd be good fun, huh, Johnny? Though I wouldn't want you bein' a sore loser."</p><p> </p><p>"Huh, <em> me </em>?" I asked incredulously, "Nah, I wouldn't be the sore loser. That's more like you." </p><p> </p><p>"Dick." </p><p> </p><p>"Bitch." </p><p> </p><p>She gave me a sweet smile and tapped at my nose all affectionately and I managed to bat her hand away. </p><p> </p><p>"I know somethin' else we can start doin' you might enjoy," I said off-handedly, and V looked up at me with bright, attentive eyes, "Aurelio's got a huge stretch of land by his shop, was a private airstrip or somethin' back in the day. Last I knew he hosted drag races and the like there; I know you're a junkie for puttin' your foot on the gas." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, fuck yes, I'm up for that." V agreed eagerly, "Let's ask him about it when we go see your baby later."  </p><p> </p><p>"Didn't know you were into racin', V." River admitted, a bit surprised. "I mean, I knew you liked cars, but…" </p><p> </p><p>"Bitch, are you kiddin'? I came first in every race but the finals in the NC street races last year." she snorted, and then hesitated, "I mean, I probably didn't tell you that because you were a cop then." </p><p> </p><p>"I wanna race against you." I decided. V laughed so suddenly and so loudly that it startled Daisy, who jumped up to put her front paws on the booth, looking around all confused. I pet at her head and she hopped back down with the offer of another fry. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, hun," V chuckled, and idly sipped from her drink. </p><p> </p><p>"I mean it." </p><p> </p><p>She looked at me, brows raised. "You know I used your little Porsche in basically all of those races, right? I know how fast that little thing can go, how quickly it gets up there. I know just how it handles. You put me in literally any car against you and I'd know exactly how to win." </p><p> </p><p>I smirked. "Ah, but you've never seen <em> me </em>race. I know my baby better than you; I can handle her gear shaft like no one can." </p><p> </p><p>"Gross." </p><p> </p><p>Shot her a wink. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, you gotta lemme know when that's goin' down." River snorted, "I wanna see Silverhand get his ass handed to him." </p><p> </p><p>Un-fuckin'-likely, but if V was the one to step all over me, I'd probably drop myself on the floor like I'd unroll a carpet. </p><p> </p><p>V and River split the bill. He looked genuinely disgusted for the short second that I stayed silent when sorting it out, until V explained that we shared our money. But that didn't change the sour look on his face, like someone had pissed in his shoes. Maybe I should've commanded Daisy to do just that. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, it was good catchin' up with you, V." River said when we were back by the trucks, "Glad you're alright. Had to wonder where the hell you disappeared off to, and then hearin' you'd been nabbed?" </p><p> </p><p>She offered him a smile. "Yeah, well… Thanks for helpin' out." she turned to me and squeezed my arm, "I'm gonna chat with River for a sec, 'kay? Get in." and handed me the key to Shit-heap. </p><p> </p><p>"Sure." I plucked Daisy up off the ground and somehow, managed to ignore River's smug little look at talking to V alone. Well, he was in for a not-so-pleasant surprise. </p><p> </p><p>I settled in the driver's side with Daisy making little circuits up and down the leather seat beside me. I hoped the weather cooled down a bit before tomorrow night - couldn't imagine doing a show under blaring lights, working up a sweat on a stage, in this nightmarish heat. Once upon a time my fangirls would literally die right there and then if I was drenched in sweat on stage. Now? Now those fangirls were old ladies. <em> Plus </em>I had my very own, very dedicated fangirl. And I think I enjoyed seeing her work up a sweat more than she liked seeing me in one. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually, the door to the passenger side opened, and I started the engine as V clambered in. She cooed in a baby voice at Daisy who tried to jump all over her whilst she clicked her belt in place, and then reached over to squeeze my hand. </p><p> </p><p>"Problem solved." she reassured, "Now let's go see how your baby's doin'." </p><p> </p><p>Huh. "Just like that?" I asked, but still pulled out of the spot. River gave V a little salute from the cab of his own truck, and I didn't look back as we drove outta the lot and back onto the busy streets of Night City. Fuck, there were cars and people <em> everywhere </em>. Sun beating down on the streets and making them an ugly dirty chalk-grey, sidewalks packed with bodies, streets bumper to bumper. If we had any goddamn hope of making it over to Aurelio's in the north end of Santo Domingo before tomorrow morning, I could only hope this traffic would just disappear. </p><p> </p><p>"Whaddya mean?" V asked, people-watching out the window while her hand idly stroked Daisy's head in a looping pattern. Something about how familiar she was with that little dog stirred something in my chest. Something warm. </p><p> </p><p>"You just… Told him to fuck off and that was it?" I asked dumbly, "You just did what I wanted and he's fine with that?" </p><p> </p><p>She rolled her eyes before placing her aviators back over her nose. Turned back to the open window before replying, "If I hadn't, you would've just exploded. I'm proud of you, y'know - for tellin' me it was botherin' you, rather than just usin' your fists on River's face."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, yeah. What'd he say?" </p><p> </p><p>"He told me it wasn't intentional, didn't realise he was doin' it. Apologied, said it wouldn't happen anymore." </p><p> </p><p>I huffed. Yeah fucking right. With how hard he was trying, it was obvious to everyone with ears that he was doing it intentionally. Flirting <em> intentionally </em>with a girl who was so evidently already hooking up with someone else - someone else who didn't like to share. V was all mine and it was staying that way. I think I'd get jealous even if I figured out a way to clone myself so she'd get two at once. </p><p> </p><p>V poked her fingers into my thigh. Since we weren't moving anywhere in this traffic, I looked over; watched how she pressed a tiny little kiss to the tips of her fingers, and offered her hand out to me. I didn't say anything. Just laid my hand out halfway on the seat, let her entwine her fingers with my metal ones. Surely it wasn't comfortable for her squishy fingers to be bending around mine, but she didn't pull away. Only let me go when the traffic finally moved and I had to release the clutch. </p><p> </p><p>After what felt like an hour stuck behind a tiny, obnoxiously bright, sickly yellow Makigai, the roads finally got a little quieter. Was easier to make our way down to Aurelio's shop, tucked nearly just on the border between Charter Hill and Rancho Coronado. Took us far longer than I would've liked, but finally I took the familiar turn left off the street and into the large, open parking lot of the autoshop. Got hit with a really strong, really bizarre wave of dejavu; hadn't been here in fucking <em> years </em>but somehow it looked exactly the same. The scenery around it had changed, buildings knocked down, new ones built. The palm trees that had survived for years out front were gone. </p><p> </p><p>No matter how much changed, Aurelio still managed to cling on. </p><p> </p><p>I threw us into park outside, and V hopped out. I left the windows open a crack for Daisy and locked the doors behind us - a workshop was no place for a tiny dog. </p><p> </p><p>"Cannot <em> wait </em>to scare the shit outta him." I said with an evil grin, and V snorted as she fell into step beside me. </p><p> </p><p>"What's he like? I mean, I've talked with him over the phone but couldn't really gauge him." she muttered, almost to herself. We crossed the lot and stepped into the shop through one of the open shutters - there were some guys walking about, tending to cars; a few bangs, crashes, whirring tools. "How chill is he?" </p><p> </p><p>I gave her a look. "He put up with <em> me </em>. Better than most people did. He's chill." </p><p> </p><p>A mechanic in blue overalls, splattered in black splodges of oil, wandered up to us. "Can I help you?" he asked, in a tone that suggested he literally would rather do <em> anything </em>else. </p><p> </p><p>"Is Aurelio in?" I asked, slinging my thumbs off my belt. Guy had the audacity to look me up and down.</p><p> </p><p>"Who's askin'?" </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny Silverhand."</p><p> </p><p>Now <em> that </em>was a better reaction. His eyeballs near fucking popped out of his skull. My appearance suddenly seemed to click in with a little part of his brain that just needed that extra hint, and when he'd picked his jaw up off the ground, he nodded rapidly. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, sure. He's in. Follow me." he said in quick, short bursts. Like his head would explode if he tried anything longer. I shot V a grin and we walked together after the mechanic, who led us between cars and poor things that couldn't even be classed as anything more than hunks of metal. What poor fucker had wrecked their car <em> that </em>much? </p><p> </p><p>We were led to the door to the back office. The guy poked his head in, then when it was good for us to go in, opened the door up for us.</p><p> </p><p>Aurelio sat back behind his desk, idly clicking through things on his monitor. Guy had barely fucking changed - same no-bullshit scowl on his face when someone interrupted him, trusty cigar against his mouth between his fingers. He'd had a few additions to his cybernetics though, little strips of gold under his eyes. Fingers, too, like rings. He sat up when we stepped into his office, and he managed to mask his surprise well - face dropped into a look of horror at the sight of me for a split second, before a shit-eating grin spread across his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>"Johnny fuckin' Silverhand." he laughed, and came around his desk to extend a hand to me. I shook it, let him pull me into a half-hug. He stood back, set his hands on his hips and looked me up and down. "What gives, huh? How come you haven't aged one fuckin' bit? Silverhand gets eternal youth and I get grey hairs?" </p><p> </p><p>I snorted, "Long story. Let's go with <em> vampire </em>for now." </p><p> </p><p>He rolled his eyes, ever used to my bullshit. He looked to V with a smile, outstretched his hand to her. </p><p> </p><p>"And who's this pretty lady?" he asked, as V settled her hand in his. It was <em> my </em>turn to roll the eyes as he kissed the back of her hand. </p><p> </p><p>"This is my girl, V."</p><p> </p><p>"Ah! You're the one I was on the phone to, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>V nodded. "Yeah, that's me. You said the Porsche is almost finished?" </p><p> </p><p>"Come, come! Lemme show ya." </p><p> </p><p>Aurelio led his way outta the office with a flourish of his fingers over his head. I let V step out first and followed, and Aurelio set a quick and windy path through his garage's maze of tools, cars and parts. At the far end was my baby, more beautiful than ever. </p><p> </p><p>"Whaddya think, eh?" Aurelio said with a smug little grin, "Fixed her up real nice. Fuckers that hurt her did a number on basically <em> everything </em>, so lots has changed. New windows, fully tinted. Gave her engine a tune, replaced the bits they'd nabbed. Replaced that sexy little spoiler, sorted the wheels with tires with crazy grip. Interior's been reupholstered too, some fuck head put a knife through the leather. Shiny new lick o'paint, full silver like you asked."</p><p> </p><p>I halted. Looped around back and sure enough, no green. No Samurai logo. </p><p> </p><p>"I didn't ask for full silver." I grumbled, and glared at V before she'd even spoke up. </p><p> </p><p>"I did." she admitted with a shrug. "Admit it, babe, the green was hideous." </p><p> </p><p>"It was <em> not </em>." </p><p> </p><p>Aurelio held up his hands. "Look, green or no green, I can do it. Just don't have a domestic in my shop." </p><p> </p><p>She looked at me with a tiny smile and I relented. <em> I </em>liked the green, but I guess I could settle so long as I got my prints back. </p><p> </p><p>"I want the Samurai logo on back again, like it used to be." I said, poking a hand at it, "And on the doors, I want this." then, tapped the tattoo on the outside of my forearm. "If I ain't gettin' green, I want them." </p><p> </p><p>"Easy as pie. Consider it done." </p><p> </p><p>"When do you think she'll be ready?" V asked, glancing at Aurelio curiously. He hummed, scratched his chin.</p><p> </p><p>"Few hours? Maybe come back tomorrow so it's not too crazy a rush. Do gotta talk to you about the uh, legal stuff though." </p><p> </p><p>"Ugh, fuck, here it comes." I groaned, rubbed at my eyes. </p><p> </p><p>"See, I did some diggin'. Plate's licensed to a guy called Gaston Slayton, and last I checked, that ain't your name." he pointed his finger at me. </p><p> </p><p>"Why’d that name sound familiar?" V murmured, <em> completely </em>missing the point. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, so?" I asked with a shrug, "Just change it." </p><p> </p><p>His brows jumped up. "Meanin' to say you actually stole the car?" </p><p> </p><p>"Of course we did. V stole it from the gonk who stole it from me-" </p><p> </p><p>"Post-mortem repossession." she corrected with a little smile. I ignored her. </p><p> </p><p>"And then some gonk stole it from her-" </p><p> </p><p>"I sold it." </p><p> </p><p>"And then who knows who the fuck's had their hands on my baby since. Point is, Aurelio, it's mine. Just forge the documents, I know you can." </p><p> </p><p>"Ai, ai, ai, you're still a goddamn handful, Silverhand." Aurelio sighed, but nodded. "Aight, fine. I'll give it a new plate and register it under whose name?" </p><p> </p><p>"Mine." </p><p> </p><p>V snorted. "Uh huh. And with what money will you pay for these repairs, baby?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Ours </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"And do you know if we can even afford it?" </p><p> </p><p>I stared at her. This was.. A <em> test, </em>right? We could afford these repairs. Right? Fuck. What if we couldn't? I didn't wanna drive around in Shit-heap forever again. I half-contemplated just saying fuck it to the extra paint job and jumping in it now, drive off into the hills. </p><p> </p><p>V cackled, and my panic fell apart. "I'm just playin' with ya, Johnny. We can afford it - point bein', you got no fuckin' clue about our money so don't go wavin' it about." </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, so," Aurelio grinned, "Since the little lady over here clearly wears the pants, should I register it under your name?" </p><p> </p><p>Fucker. He wouldn't dare. This was <em> my </em>car, sure I'd let V drive it around but this was my baby, my pride and joy. Fuck, I loved this thing more than I loved my ax. They wouldn't conspire against me just for a joke. </p><p> </p><p>V must've seen the look in my eyes and took pity on me. "Nah, register under his. Get the feelin' he'd never forgive me otherwise." she cracked me a little smile, and I could've kissed her. Or punched her for giving me that heart attack. </p><p> </p><p>"Sure thing. Just gonna need some deets then, if you actually want it to seem legit." </p><p> </p><p>I was glad V took care of all the boring shit like paperwork, but I did kinda feel bad about it. Like when we headed back to the office with Aurelio, and V gave him every detail he needed on a quick fire. I barely knew our address. I'd just left everything to her, and it really hit me in that office how little I really knew. Maybe I'd ask her. Get her to teach me in little chunks so that maybe I could be a functional fucking adult on my own. Not that I <em> wanted </em>to be on my own. </p><p> </p><p>"That's all I need," Aurelio said with a relieved sigh as he entered the last bit of info into his computer, "She'll be ready by tomorrow lunchtime? Swing by then, should be good." </p><p> </p><p>"Preem." V got to her feet. "How come I've never heard of this place? Definitely coulda used a good mechanic like this too many times to count." </p><p> </p><p>Aurelio grinned at her. "Don't work with just anyone, y'know. Gotta be someone to be my pal - just like how Rogue expects the weight you swing around matches your name in her bar." </p><p> </p><p>"He's off the grid." I explained in more literal terms, ignoring his little glare for killing his mysterious vibe. "Deals with all sorts of characters. Underworld, black market, you name it. Solos and mercs are just a tiny percentage of his clientele." </p><p> </p><p>V blinked at me. "Well fuck me." she laughed. "Colour me impressed then. Glad we can make use of your prestigious services then, Aurelio." </p><p> </p><p>"My pleasure." he shot her one of those charming grins, and honestly, if I didn't know who she was dating, I'd worry about her swooning over it. "I shouldn't be surprised that Johnny's still kickin', nor the fact he's got himself a brainy new girl. Was good to meet you, V." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, and you."</p><p> </p><p>"Before we go," I said, catching V's waist before she could leave. "I'm doin' a show tomorrow night with the rest of the group - old Samurai back together. You wanna come?" </p><p> </p><p>He snorted. "Sure, why the hell not? Can I bring a plus-one?" </p><p> </p><p>"Not a ticketed event, bring as many as you want." </p><p> </p><p>"Sweet. Just message me the deets then, I'll be there." </p><p> </p><p>Two birds, one stone really. If Aurelio could come, linger in the audience, it might convince V she could come - wouldn't feel unsafe if she had someone to watch the gig with. I'd be on stage, I wouldn't be able to be with her. And I wanted her to come, damn it; I'd heard her singing my songs in the shower, I knew her favourite t-shirt was my old Samurai tank. And the way her eyes lit up, borderline fan-girl sparkles when I played guitar - shit, if she didn't see us live, felt like a disservice to everyone. </p><p> </p><p>I was gonna do the best goddamn show of my life tomorrow night, for her. And if she didn't show, well…</p><p> </p><p>Fuck. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr! Come and hang out with me in the <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Cyberpunks discord server</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Samurai 2.0</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So... it's been a hot minute, huh?</p><p>I was hit with MAJOR block on this chapter. I restarted it a few times, even though I'd been looking forward to the premise of it lol. Anyhow, here it is! Hopefully there won't be such a huge gap between this and the next one.</p><p>Also, if you're into John Wick like me (a Keanu simp), I've been writing a new fic series lately! Read it <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132751/chapters/71519031">here</a>!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>MAY 06th, 2078 / JOHNNY</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Heywood, Wellsprings … 07:23PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>I'd been waiting for this day for so long. Ever since I'd woke up in V's head, the only shred of fucking hope I had was thanks to that stupid, desperate desire to feel alive again. To feel the rush of performing again, to have my heart pounding in my chest as an audience screamed my name. Once upon a time, those brief bursts of adrenaline was all that kept me feeling like I was human. </p><p> </p><p>Things had changed a bit since then. My priorities lined up different; a little princess with pink hair had wormed her way up the list without a goddamn word from me, so that burst of life I got from a stage? Didn't need it anymore. But that didn't mean I didn't want it. </p><p> </p><p>So I threw on my clothes after my shower that evening with an energy I hadn't felt in a while. In a long, long fucking while. Even before I'd died, I hadn't had this much eagerness to perform for years. The shows stopped being exciting after a while, and I'd only agree so I could get paid and laid after. But this was something else; I <em> wanted </em>to pick up my ax and scream into a mic, to sing my heart out til my throat bled. </p><p> </p><p>And yet something nagging in the back of my head made me feel <em> bad </em>for looking forward to tonight. Something like guilt. </p><p> </p><p>The cause of it was lounging on the bed, not having moved for the past hour. Staring blankly at a TV, not really taking anything in; mismatched eyes glazed over like her mind was elsewhere entirely. </p><p> </p><p>"V." </p><p> </p><p>She didn't flinch. Didn't even blink. It was fucking creepy. So I walked up to the bed, landed sideways on the mattress with a huff and set my head on top of her legs. <em> That </em>got her attention, but even then she just looked down at me with that glassy look to her face. </p><p> </p><p>"Snap out of it. You're makin' me feel weird." I grumbled, and she fidgeted. </p><p> </p><p>"Sorry." she murmured, "Head's up my ass." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I can tell. You comin' tonight or not?" </p><p> </p><p>V hesitated, but before I could say anything, she nodded quickly. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I'm comin'." </p><p> </p><p>She didn't sound so sure. Still, I sat up from her thighs and yanked back the cover to see her still wearing a t-shirt and cute pink short-shorts. No fucking way I was letting her show off her ass to other gonks. </p><p> </p><p>"Throw some clothes on then. Gotta go soon." </p><p> </p><p>She got up out of bed, and it was like she was drifting as she made her way to the wardrobe. Mind was completely elsewhere. One of Daisy's rubber toys was just out of reach - so I shifted, grabbed it, and tossed it at the back of her head. It bounced off with a strong squeak, rolling off towards the door. </p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck, Johnny?" she grumbled, aimlessly rubbing the back of her head. Anyone'd think she was fucking drunk, or high. So slow and airy, on a whole other plane of existence. Goddamn, whatever she was on I wanted some - and she hadn't even <em> shared </em>. </p><p> </p><p>"How about we forget the clothes for a sec?" I asked, jumping up to my feet in one quick jerk upright. I crossed the room and slid my hand down her arm, my rings clinking against her metal fingers as I pulled on hers. Span her around in front of me, then yanked her close. Wound my arms around her middle. "Don't gotta go <em> right </em>away. Could do some warmin' up." </p><p> </p><p>"You don't need a warm up, you're goin' on stage, not runnin' a marathon."</p><p> </p><p>"Nah, but you do. Walkin' round like a zombie, baby." </p><p> </p><p>V sighed, put a hand against her head. "Sorry. Just need to get it together." </p><p> </p><p>"You wanna go take a shower? I'll get some clothes out for ya."</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks." </p><p> </p><p>The bathroom door slid shut behind me and I sighed. She didn't wanna come. That much was obvious, really, didn't need a genius to figure that one out. She'd been fine since that talk with Misty - a bit drifty on and off maybe, but I'd put that down to the puffs of the meds she was taking for her new implants. I knew her head was a bit fucked from her time as a prisoner, and there was nothing wrong with that. Anyone would've been constantly thinking about it, like I knew she probably was with her forehead against the shower tiles. Too deeply. Spiralling. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck. </p><p> </p><p>I shrugged off my clothes and headed for the bathroom. She might've wanted her peace and quiet but I'd been in those shoes. Feeling trapped in your own fucking head, and the worst part about having my own body was not being able to see inside hers. To see exactly what I could do. I stepped into the shower behind her and she didn't even flinch; head down, wet hair obscuring her face, hands pressed up against the wall. I touched her back and <em> then </em>she jumped, probably from the coldness of my hand. She didn't even say anything. Just turned towards me and pressed herself up against my chest. Not her usual hug. All vulnerable, hands against my chest, hiding her face away from me. </p><p> </p><p>Forgot how long we just stood there like that. Shower only set to warm, pouring down on our heads, my arms around her. And then V just sighed, and slowly pulled back from me. </p><p> </p><p>"Sorry." she murmured, and I noticed the skin around her eyes was all puffy. I couldn't even tell she'd been crying otherwise. "This is your night and I'm fuckin' it up-"</p><p> </p><p>"Shuttup, V. Stop apologisin'." </p><p> </p><p>She breathed out a sigh and nodded. Idly, she pulled back the wet strands of her hair out of her face, and offered me an attempt at a smile. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks. You don't gotta babysit me in here though." </p><p> </p><p>"I don't know," I mulled, "View's pretty good." </p><p> </p><p>"Get out, Johnny!" </p><p> </p><p>I rolled my eyes and left her to it. By the time she finally toed out of the bathroom wrapped up in a towel, I was dressed again <em> and </em>my hair was dry. At least she seemed a bit better - more alert, looked a bit less like a zombie. She fell into a little routine, ignoring the clothes I'd offered for her and opted to choose an outfit of her own. A sexy little black thing that barely reached her thighs, clung to her curves. She looked even skinnier than she usually did and where once upon a time, a slender figure would've been just my thing, it only unnerved me to be able to see her bones so plainly. She dried her hair and slapped on some makeup, dark around the eyes and a pretty pink shade on her lips. It wouldn't last long. </p><p> </p><p>"Well?" she asked suddenly, getting up from the desk where she'd set up a mirror. I crossed my arms over my chest, pursed my lips. Made her do a little spin; yeah, sure, she looked good. Her ass'd look better out of it, hem up over her thighs, maybe with the front all torn up… </p><p> </p><p>"You look hot." I decided, instead of saying literally <em> anything </em>else on my mind. We wouldn't make it to the venue on time if I got carried away. "You'll get cold though." </p><p> </p><p>She'd planned for that. Goes to show how little I actually knew about her end of wardrobe when she pulled out a cropped leather jacket that was - somehow - even pinker than her hair. Between us, we looked ready to go out on the town. Or, burn it. Depending on how she was feeling, based on whether her head was still in her ass or not. </p><p> </p><p>We said our goodbyes to Daisy, who whined and pawed at my leg before I managed to wriggle out of the door. Armed under my jacket with the Malorian and my ax in my hand, I followed V down the stairs; caught the keys to the Porsche she tossed at me when we got outside. Thank <em> fuck </em> Aurelio had come through. If I had to turn up to my first gig in over half a century in Shit-heap of all things, I might’ve just ended it all myself. For the second time. </p><p> </p><p>She tried to keep herself occupied on the drive there. Chatted away at me more than V would normally ever talk, asking me questions about the show; what it was like to perform, how I got started, how I warmed up beforehand. I <em> didn’t </em> and she couldn’t understand that. Not on my own, anyhow; Kerry always had me do a few vocal exercises before we went on, and I would’ve only done them back in the day if I wasn’t too high or drunk. Which, I usually was. Really, it was a surprise my throat still functioned, and my vocal chords could still make noise. </p><p> </p><p>How much would it be to get implants? Were they a thing nowadays? Could people just gift themselves the art of singing just by buying the right chrome?</p><p> </p><p>I shook my head. Goddamn cons.</p><p> </p><p>At the very least because of what she’d been through, nowadays V had made certain to fall into a habit - showed off the heat she was packing in her purse, a sexy little number that would pack a punch. Also showed me the sharp, evil looking implement she slipped into a holster plainly clipped around her thigh; “Easy access,” she’d said with a shrug and a smile, “Plus, a good warnin’ for those who don’t wanna lose their fingers.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, and Johnny?” she asked, looking at me with a look that I wasn’t sure I liked. Sorta uncertain, like she was afraid to say what was on the tip of her tongue.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” </p><p> </p><p>“I uh… I might’ve invited Rogue.” </p><p> </p><p>If I’d been drinking, I would’ve choked. Or spat it back up. Rogue hadn’t come to one of my shows for <em> years </em> - not before Samurai disbanded in 2013. And even then, it had been rare. I’d never ask because I didn’t wanna look like I was begging, and she’d <em> love </em> that. Tell me to get down on my knees and plead, otherwise she’d refuse. She would never come because I hadn’t asked. Bitch never did anything out of the kindness of her own heart; didn’t have one. I probably helped it along to shrivel up in her chest with the way I’d treated her, but there was no undoing it now. I was still waiting for the bill to come in for how she’d helped me with V. Waiting for her to cash in on the favour I now owed. What we both owed.</p><p> </p><p>Not even in Night fucking City, freest city in the world, were you immune to being someone’s pawn.</p><p> </p><p>“Cool. I shouldn’t have invited her then.” V decided with a huff, tossing her head back against the seat. I must’ve been pulling a face, so I quickly let it drop and glanced over as we hit a set of red lights. That dazed, glassy look was in her eyes again as she watched a group of partygoers head up the sidewalk. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine.” I said quickly. </p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s obviously not. You looked like I’d kicked you in the balls.”</p><p> </p><p>My brows raised. Didn’t think I’d had a reaction <em> that </em> visceral. </p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s… It’s whatever.” I amended, and that didn’t seem to go over much better. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Whatever </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>I huffed. “Rogue and my shows didn’t get on. She hates my music.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh huh.” she crossed her arms. “And Rogue still fucked you? How did that even happen?”</p><p> </p><p>“Rogue met me before we got big. She never liked it, always said I was wastin’ my time. Only got worse when we got signed.”</p><p> </p><p>“What a supportive output.”</p><p> </p><p>“She wasn’t then. Just a girl that liked shit-talkin’ the gonk she’d saved from a fight in Atlantis.”</p><p> </p><p>V let out a soft little, “Huh.” and let her arms fall to her lap. Telling V stories about my “youth” definitely wasn’t something I thought I’d do tonight, and I would’ve preferred if it stayed off the table completely. The story of how I met Rogue wasn’t exactly dashing or even very flattering. Felt weird to go into as well, telling my girlfriend about an ex. Even weirder that said girlfriend was tryna be buddy-buddy with said ex and inviting her to a thing like this. A thing I knew she was notorious for avoiding like a plague. </p><p> </p><p>"She probably won't come, I think," V said thoughtfully, giving me a shrug, "I mean, she hasn't answered me. Just left me on read and that was that." </p><p> </p><p>"What did you <em> actually </em>say to her?" </p><p> </p><p>She rolled her mismatched eyes at me. "I text her asking if she wanted to come watch your show with me."</p><p> </p><p>"And Aurelio?" </p><p> </p><p>"What about him?" </p><p> </p><p>"You invited Rogue under the assumption those two get along." </p><p> </p><p>"I sure did. Is this an appropriate time to say <em> whoops </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>I couldn't help the twitch of my lips that ruined my plans to be evil - to tease her and make her suddenly concerned she was about to start a corpo-style war. She punched me in the arm. </p><p> </p><p>"Just fuckin' with you, V," I snorted, "Aurelio and Rogue get on like a house on fire. Both like money, both like jobs - they give each other both." </p><p> </p><p>"Ah, a match made in heaven." V chuckled, and stared out the window. After a minute, she turned to me, a little horrified, "Hey, what if they <em> are </em>a match?" </p><p> </p><p>"They better not be." </p><p> </p><p>Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her evil little grin. It was good to see her smiling again after what happened in the shower. Just wasn't sure I liked the reason why it was there. </p><p> </p><p>"What, you jealous, baby?" she teased, "You gonna get mad if Aurelio is fuckin' Rogue?" </p><p> </p><p>"Let's get <em> this </em> straight," I started, "First, Rogue would be fuckin' <em> Aurelio </em>, not the other way round-"</p><p> </p><p>"Is that what it was like with you?" </p><p> </p><p>"-Don't be a fuckin' gonk. Second, I wouldn't be jealous, I'd be mad. You don't go fuckin' your choom's ex." </p><p> </p><p>V's grin only got wider. "Uh huh. Johnny Silverhand has a bro code."</p><p> </p><p>"No. The people around me have a <em> bro code </em>, I'm exempt." </p><p> </p><p>"Of course, of course. My mistake." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted, and reached over to clap my hand over her knee, giving it a squeeze. "Don't worry," I said, "I don't got any reason to be jealous of anyone else. You're the preemest of preem at givin' head." </p><p> </p><p>If looks could kill, she'd be dead too - I'd have crashed. </p><p> </p><p>"Gee, thanks." </p><p> </p><p>"Hey. I've never told anyone who's given me head that I love them. You got somethin' over the rest of them." </p><p> </p><p>The glare didn't lessen in intensity. I thought it best to return my hand to the steering wheel before she tried to tear my metal arm out of its socket. </p><p> </p><p>The gig Kerry'd picked was a quieter place down in the City Centre; outta the way of the more hectic places, but packed enough that we'd cause a stir the second someone recognised who we were. I hoped we could keep the chaos under control. V didn't need to deal with that shit - she already had a bad enough time in crowds lately. A mosh pit? Fuck, didn't wanna imagine it. I betted she'd be hella fun in one ordinarily, but I knew she would be a goddamn mess in a scene like that. </p><p> </p><p>I pulled into the parking lot out back, finding an empty space and taking the time to back into it. Two birds, one stone; hid the Samurai print on the back Aurelio had replaced; was gonna be easy to speed out after the show. Couldn't recognise any of the nearby cars as Kerry's, so I just grabbed my ax and came round front to meet V at the hood of the car. She looped an arm casually through mine as we approached a side entrance to the club. People dressed in skimpier outfits than hers clustered outside - and none of the chicks even came close to her. Did it really take her slipping into a sexy black number for me to realise how blessed I was? Because holy fuck. The way she walked in those heels, the sultry look in her eye when she caught me looking down at her. Her slender legs and the way her tits were just sat there on display for me… That dress was doing wonders. </p><p> </p><p>I was gonna enjoy helping her out of it later, I knew that much.</p><p> </p><p>We headed inside, and I didn't miss the way her grip tightened on my arm; and it was my fleshy one, so I could feel the little digs of her nails in my skin. People everywhere, clustered round some bartables or clustered by the stage where a sad little band played to a mixed reception. She shot me a dirty little glare when I shook her off. It very quickly was replaced with a flash of relief when I instead put my arm around her, squeezing her hip in my hand. This was much better. I could feel her up against me with every step, and it made it very clear to anyone who might look who was who's round here. </p><p> </p><p>You ask V? She'd say I was <em> her </em>bitch, but everyone had fun telling little lies. </p><p> </p><p>"I see Kerry." she pressed her lips to my ear to tell me - could barely hear her over the garbage guitar that was being played on stage. Holy shit, that guy was terrible. Like, toilet-bowl-was-glowing level of holy shit. Least I could lessen the agony my ears were going through by listening to V's direction, and following the point of her finger. "The bar." </p><p> </p><p>"'Course he's at the bar." I rolled my eyes. </p><p> </p><p>"Bitch, didn't you show up to <em> every </em>gig drunk?" </p><p> </p><p>"High, baby. Big difference." </p><p> </p><p>When Kerry saw us approaching, he grinned. Beckoned us over to his little circle with open arms - Nance and Denny were taking up two of the stools by the bar, sipping at pretty drinks that I'd get punched in the gut for describing them as <em> girly. </em>But they fucking were, all sparkly and bright. Looked like they tasted of sunshine and rainbows. </p><p> </p><p>"V, drink?" Kerry asked, poking a thumb behind him at the bar. V let out a groan. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck yes, I need a drink." she gave my cheek a brisk kiss and dipped out from under my arm, excitedly crossing her way over to the bar with Ker. Huffing - realising I wasn't needed as her emotional support rockerboy anymore - I joined Nance and Denny, who looked at me funny for so long I just had to ask. </p><p> </p><p>"What?" I grumbled, and V slid a drink towards me. She was too busy chatting away to Kerry, and I couldn't hear her from here over that godforsaken racket on stage. They were brave to call that awful clash of guitar and drum <em> music. </em>"Seriously, what? Why are you both starin' at me?" </p><p> </p><p>"You're fuckin' whipped, Johnny." Denny said in a tone that <em> reeked </em>of disbelief. "Never thought I'd see the day. Girl's cute but damn, aren't you a little old for her?" </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck off. This body's still thirty-five. For all intents and purposes, so am I." </p><p> </p><p>Nancy snorted. "A shame your mind never got the catch-up memo."</p><p> </p><p>"So what, anyway?" I snapped, and took a sip of the beer in front of me. Didn't taste great, but I needed something in my system. "What's it to you?" </p><p> </p><p>"Chill, chill." Den looked at me with an amused glint in her eye, as if she'd predicted I'd have that exact reaction. Like it was bait and I'd fallen for it, God-fucking-damn it. "I'm happy for you. Just don't fuck it up this time, got it? I like V."</p><p> </p><p>"Coulda fooled me with how you were talkin' to her at Ker's."</p><p> </p><p>She rolled her eyes. "Was a good test though, huh? She went hard on defendin' your sorry ass."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah and she didn't need the stress-" </p><p> </p><p>Nance cut me off with a laugh. "Holy moly, you are goddamn whipped. Remember to invite us to the weddin', huh?" </p><p> </p><p>"Go fuck yourself." </p><p> </p><p>My attitude shifted so suddenly when I felt V sidle up to me, and slipped under my arm. I let out the casually, "Hey, baby," before I could kick myself. Denny and Nancy shared an evil grin, and I pretended like I didn't know what it was about. Better that way. </p><p> </p><p>"Kerry said these guys' slot ends in a few." she said, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. </p><p> </p><p>"Thank fuck. They're shit." </p><p> </p><p>"That's a bit harsh." </p><p> </p><p>I looked to my bandmates for confirmation. Denny and Nance nodded immediately. </p><p> </p><p>"They're fuckin' terrible." added Nancy. If <em> I </em>was being harsh, didn't wanna know what V thought of that one. </p><p> </p><p>"But that means it's almost time for you guys to go on! I'm hyped." V shot me a grin - one that was just a little too overzealous. Like she was trying too hard to be happy for me. I knew in reality she was shitting herself for when we left her out here to go backstage. I squeezed her hip, and the smile only widened. </p><p> </p><p>"You don't remember the last one?" asked Nancy with a frown, and V quickly shook her head. </p><p> </p><p>"Nah, honestly I didn't remember much at all from the times when Johnny took over. Just knocked back a pill and bam - woke up hours later with a killer headache and missing a nail or two." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted. "You expected me to play with those evil claws?" </p><p> </p><p>"Uh, yeah? My body, my nails. Don't fuck with a girl's nails, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>"Would hate to imagine what the fuck Johnny was like in a woman's body." Denny muttered as she nursed her glass in her hands. </p><p> </p><p>"I was hot as fuck, that's what." </p><p> </p><p>V snorted. "Yeah, 'cause you were in <em> my </em>body." </p><p> </p><p>"Didn't disagree." I smirked, and she rolled her eyes at me. I did a quick one over of the bar and noticed we were missing someone - turned to Kerry when he finally rejoined us. "Where the fuck's Henry?" </p><p> </p><p>Kerry sighed at me. "He went to," made little air quotes, "<em> Pee </em>ten minutes ago."</p><p> </p><p>"So he's doin' coke in the bathrooms." </p><p> </p><p>V poked me. "What's coke?" </p><p> </p><p>"Aw, honey. Bless your little soul." Denny cooed, pulling an affectionate expression. V didn't like being babied, and simply huffed. It was probably for the best she didn't know what the fuck coke was - better yet that she didn't touch modern day drugs with a ten foot pole. That would've been one fucking trip if she had when I was in her head. </p><p> </p><p>"Sure you don't wanna join him?" Kerry prodded, testingly. I groaned. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny's clean, Kerry," V chipped in - <em> ha </em>- pinching at my waist. "Barely even smokes anymore." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh. Sure. Next you'll be tellin' me he's sober all the time." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted. "Bitch, you wish." and downed the last of my bottle. </p><p> </p><p>Finally, the atrocious excuse for a band stopped playing on stage. Almost felt bad for the kids - being the prequel to our act. Still, couldn't see Aurelio anywhere here. Shit, I'd even take Rogue right now if it meant V didn't have to be alone while we went backstage. </p><p> </p><p>"Just go," she said with a huff, pushing at my chest while the others waited for me. "I'll be fine. I'm not a damsel, Johnny." </p><p> </p><p>"I know you ain't. I'm more worried about everyone in this bar with you packin'." </p><p> </p><p>She managed a tiny smile at me. "Please, just go. I'm okay. Go and get prepped and kick some ass." </p><p> </p><p>For once, she didn't need to hop up on her toes - her heels that all the work for her. She slipped an arm around my neck, pulled me close, gave me a taste of that pretty lipstick she wore. It was sweet, but she didn't let me linger long enough to smudge it. </p><p> </p><p>"I'll be watchin'." V promised, and finally, I let her go. Grabbed my ax case from beside the bar and followed after Kerry, leaving sexy little V all alone. I was sad that I'd miss her tearing strips off any gonk that tried flirting with her while I was gone. </p><p> </p><p>I'd missed the hectic buzz of backstage between performances. Eventually, it got to a point where there was no act swap, and gigs were all us - booked out for Samurai only for a full concert. Those were the fucking days. Went from barely scraping an audience to having people drive for miles to see us play, just <em> us </em> . It sorta slipped after Samurai fell apart in '13, but Ker and I still raked in a huge audience. And now, here we were, fifty something years later. Back where we began, in some no-name dive with an hour alloted to play. Last group had just been a cover band - no originals, and they butchered every song they played. Thank <em> fuck </em>they had the decency not to touch Samurai. </p><p> </p><p>"That was so sick!" yelled one of the airheads as they came down backstage, high-fiving the kid that carried the bass guitar. This kid with the electric was short and scrawny, hopping about like he had too much energy for a kid so underweight. Probably did - adrenaline would wear off soon though, and he'd crash like a ton of bricks. </p><p> </p><p>"You seriously fuckin' suck, dude," replied his bud in a less upbeat tone, and electric over there looked crestfallen. "Seriously, you messed up so many times. I think we need to find someone else who can play lead, you can play backup." </p><p> </p><p>"But I wanna play lead." </p><p> </p><p>"Then stop suckin' ass." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted - couldn't help it. Both of them snapped their heads round to look at me, and I just elbowed Kerry. Poked a finger at the duo staring at us. </p><p> </p><p>"That's why you're backup." I whispered, though not quiet enough to really be secretive. </p><p> </p><p>Kerry shot me a dirty look. "Fuck you." and waltzed off to speak to some roadie. </p><p> </p><p>I jerked my chin at electric, who was looking at me like he couldn't quite figure out where he'd seen my face before. </p><p> </p><p>"How long you been playin', kid?" I asked, and took off my shades. Maybe that'd help. </p><p> </p><p>"Uh, a couple months." he answered, and wasn't lying. I could tell from the way he got all bashful, like it was something to be embarrassed over. </p><p> </p><p>"A couple months and already performin'? Ballsy." I set my ax down and crossed my arms. "Play somethin' for me." </p><p> </p><p>He poked a thumb behind him, back towards the stage entrance, "But I… I just did."</p><p> </p><p>"Wasn't listenin'. Sounded garbo up there, you don't work well together to be honest." nodded my head at bass next to him, "Your bud is tryin' so desperately to outshine you even though he's bass. You're never gonna do it, kid. Your job is support. So, play."</p><p> </p><p>Nervously, the kid grabbed the neck of his ax and turned it round to his front. Shitty little thing - probably rented, shit quality, strings looked ready to snap. Had he tuned that himself? </p><p> </p><p>I watched him play, but he didn't have neatly enough confidence to back up the skill he actually had under his belt. He played some tune I didn't know, probably some modern rock I hadn't heard but it had a solid progression. He hit the chords well but not fast enough to be smooth, obviously amateur hour. But he was good. Had decent potential to learn, and I could bet from his scruffy torn jeans, ripped up shoes and black eye that he couldn't afford proper lessons. Parents probably didn't even know he was here; probably scavenged up eddies for months just to afford to pay for this gig and rent that shitty ax. </p><p> </p><p>"Not bad. Bit sloppy, but not terrible." I judged, setting my hands on my hips. "Got a decent technical understanding. Honestly, you'd be better of ditchin' your bass and findin' a guy who'll compliment your style." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck you, man." lil bassist snapped, and threw me a finger before storming off. I shrugged - good riddence.</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks." electric muttered, scratching the back of his head. "It was fun, but I should prolly practise more before I even look for new bandmates again, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>"Take smaller gigs. Build up over time, jumpin' right into a place like this was stupid." I said, and his shoulders slumped. "Stupid," I continued, "But hella ballsy. What's your name, kid?" </p><p> </p><p>"Steve." </p><p> </p><p>I crossed the gap between us and offered him my left hand to shake. He looked down at it, stared at it for a while, and as he let go of the neck of his ax to shake it, he froze. </p><p> </p><p>He stared up at me with wide eyes. "Holy shit, you're-" </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, yeah." </p><p> </p><p>Kid was a whole lot paler when he'd actually shook my hand. Starstruck, maybe. But then he grinned - a sad sorta <em>I wanna be happy but, shit-</em> smile. </p><p> </p><p>"I'd ask you to sign my guitar, but it's not mine." he said sadly, and I nodded.</p><p> </p><p>"Figured as much. How about I give you somethin' else?" I pulled my holo outta my pocket and offered him my contact. "Your parents prolly tell you not to take strangers' numbers, but I bet they don't even know you're here. So, call me sometime. I'll give you a few lessons." </p><p> </p><p>His jaw fucking dropped. He barely managed to pick it up off the floor to stutter, "B-But I couldn't afford that. I- goddamn, that would be amazing. But I don't-"</p><p> </p><p>"Did I ask you for any eddies?" </p><p> </p><p>"No…" </p><p> </p><p>"Then you can be my good samaritan deed. Trust me, don't want or need your money." <em> because I had a sugar mommy. </em>Obviously didn't say that bit.</p><p> </p><p>He cracked a little smile. "My mom tells me never to trust anyone who says trust me." </p><p> </p><p>"Then at least your parents give you some decent life lessons."</p><p> </p><p>Steve hesitated for a minute more, before scrambling to grab his own holo outta his pocket. Was a battered up old thing - far older model than the one V had gotten for me. A bit giddy now, he copied down my number, and I waved him off when he scrambled to give me his. I’d know easily who it was the second he called me - if he found his balls first.</p><p> </p><p>Whilst I pocketed my holo again, Kerry stormed up to me, looking ready to explode. “Where the fuck’s Henry?” he asked me, and I pulled a face.</p><p> </p><p>“How the fuck am I meant to know? Bathroom, prolly.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, you sit back, relax. I’ll do everythin’.”</p><p> </p><p>As he grumbled past me, I rolled my eyes. “Watch those panties, Ker, they’re twistin’.” and he gave me a gracious middle finger.</p><p> </p><p>The kid in front of me gaped after where Kerry had gone. “W-Was that-”</p><p> </p><p>“Kerry, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“Holy shit. I-I didn’t know you guys were still playin’!” he was giddy again, grinning like a little kid. “Can I stay and watch the show? Samurai is like, my biggest inspiration!”</p><p> </p><p>“You should probably get home before your parents realise you’re gone. Don’t make that other eye black too.”</p><p> </p><p>He blinked at me, almost like he’d forgotten about it. As if it wasn’t obvious, a hideous black bruise around his eye. Kid probably had a bastard of a dad - I felt sorry for him in a brief window I let myself remember my own. Fucker. Hoped he was buried in some trashy oil field like I was supposed to.</p><p> </p><p>His shoulders slumped, and I gently punched one of them.</p><p> </p><p>“You can have VIP access to one in the future, and that’s a promise. So long as you make good on that promise of yours and call me so I don’t gotta listen to that garbage you did on stage just then.”</p><p>Steve’s shoulders jumped up, and he grinned. “I will! I promise, I will! Holy shit, this is so cool!”</p><p> </p><p>“Get goin’, kid. And don’t forget to return that guitar, they’ll make you pay like a bitch if you’re late.”</p><p> </p><p>“Will do! You’re the best, Mr. Silverhand!”</p><p> </p><p>I pulled a face. “A lotta people would disagree.”</p><p> </p><p>He headed off with a skip in his step just as Kerry dragged Henry through the backstage door. He was absolutely fucking high - bloodshot eyes, but they were alert, jumping all over the place. Sluggish but somehow full of energy. Well, at the very least, that meant we’d have good vibes coming from bass. </p><p> </p><p>Kerry had me do some warmups with him, and I was glad he did, because I felt so badly outta practise. Sure, I still sang now and then - had been a lot more lately while I did other shit just to get back in the habit. Whilst we tuned up our guitars he coached me through some exercises, a whole lot more than we used to. He’d definitely learned a thing or two about technicality since. </p><p> </p><p>“Been a while, huh?” Nance asked with a chuckle, and I shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll come back to me.” I said, unconcerned. Sure, for a while I’d just been a bunch of lines of code, but for them? It had been a long, <em> real </em> ass time since they performed as Samurai - and last time they’d been missing me. So we went out on stage together, properly, for the first time in over half a century. Kerry was grinning at me as we took our places, tested the mic. Already our audience was watching, curious as to what sort of atrocity of music would bleed their ears next.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, we’d bleed their ears, alright. Just in the good way. </p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>MAY 06th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / City Centre, Downtown … 09:32PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Johnny was having a blast. And from the looks of things, so were the rest of Samurai - and this whole damn bar. He hadn’t even introduced themselves, just begun playing. It took maybe… Thirty seconds? A minute? Until someone screamed, “Silverhand!” and little pieces slotted into the heads of the people watching. By the end of the first song, half the bar were already on their feet and rocking out. The other half that didn’t seem to realise who the fucking idols were on stage quickly followed suit when they realised how good they were.</p><p> </p><p>I spun slowly back and forth on my stool, sipping from my drink. Stage was too crowded to get any closer, so I just enjoyed from afar. Savoured the sound of his voice, the rasp of his screams, the expert way he handled that guitar. Fuck, he was an expert at handling many goddamn things and I found myself looking forward to seeing him handle something else when we got home.</p><p> </p><p>A tap on my shoulder drew my attention away from the stage. I grinned and span around to greet Aurelio - and faltered, only for a minute, when I saw Rogue at his side.</p><p> </p><p>Oh <em> fuck </em> I’d only been joking about them fucking. Were they actually…? Holy shit. Uh oh.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, V, we miss much?” asked Aurelio in the brief window of semi-quiet we had whilst Johnny and Kerry greeted their audience - every sentence followed by a wave of screams. Couldn’t wipe the smile off my face at that. </p><p> </p><p>“They only just went on,” I said with a shake of my head, “Heya, Rogue. Didn’t think you were gonna show.”</p><p> </p><p>She obviously didn’t look very pleased that I’d called her out on it. Shrugged, “Yeah, well, I got two invites. Would’ve been rude to turn down both.” </p><p> </p><p>“So Rogue was the plus one ya wanted to bring, eh?” I asked with a smirk, signalled over the bartender. “You two a thing, or what?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s none of your business is what.” Rogue said sharply, and I held up my hands defensively. Goddamn, were they really fucking? Hoo boy, Johnny wouldn’t be happy, bro code and all that. But he’d been gone a long time, and in reality, who was he to be pissy about his friends seeing each other? Ex or not. </p><p> </p><p>If they were doing the dirty, I didn’t know who to feel more jealous of. Sexy, silver fox vibes from both of them. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe I should’ve considered my thing for older people.</p><p> </p><p>While they ordered drinks and settled down with me, I turned back round again. Johnny was right - seeing it on shitty bootlegs was nothing in comparison to seeing Samurai live. So much energy, so much noise; Johnny and Kerry already getting sweaty under the bright lights on stage, performing a perfect duet of screaming and chaos. It was excellent. I only wished I could work up the courage to put down my drink and barge my way to the front to get a better view. Maybe another day, another show, when I didn’t feel like I had to keep a hand tight around my purse in case of an attack. </p><p> </p><p>“So, Rogue, what gives?” I asked and leaned towards her to stand a chance at being heard over Johnny’s sick guitar solo. “Johnny told me you hated showin’ up to his gigs. Why this one?”</p><p> </p><p>She rolled her eyes at me. “I already told you, V. I got two separate invites.”</p><p> </p><p>I quirked a brow. “Uh huh, that’s the only reason?” </p><p> </p><p>Rogue shot me an impressive glare. Did wonders to scare me <em> and </em> turn me on. </p><p> </p><p>“I came because I wanted to. I haven’t gone out in a while, and while Johnny’s music is fuckin’ headache-inducing, I thought I’d give it another chance. It <em> has </em> been fifty years, after all.” </p><p> </p><p>“And? Much changed?”</p><p> </p><p>She leaned back against the bar and sipped from her glass. “Yeah, <em> he </em>has. Tone’s all wrong, energy’s off. The few times I did suffer to watch Samurai in the past, he was just full of rage and hatred. He’s more mellow now. Your fault, I’m gonna wager.”</p><p> </p><p>It was my turn to roll my eyes. Him being a little less full of rage and anger was a good thing - at least I thought so. Even if his energy was different now, it wasn’t a detriment. His voice was still fucking preem and the way he played that guitar, goddamn. <em> And </em> he had the crowd on their feet, raving to every note, every word. It was as if he’d never been gone at all.</p><p> </p><p>Rogue spun on her stool to turn her attention to Aurelio instead, and I didn’t blame her. Wasn’t like she was here for me anyway, not in reality. Plus, it left me to enjoy the show, and I sat there staring long enough to begin contemplating whether I should get up - balls or no - to stand closer to the stage. To push my way to the front so he could see me. </p><p> </p><p>But some fucking gonk thought of a better idea.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re V, right?” he asked, and sidled on up to me at the bar. Didn’t look like a party goer, not one bit. He looked as stereotypical a cop as you could get - worse than River. Only thing he was missing was the badge on display at his belt under that long coat, and even that was probably only in his pocket.</p><p> </p><p>I leaned back on the bar, side-eyeing him. He was packing, wasn’t obvious at first glance but I could make out the band of a holster across his chest. “Who’s askin’?” I grumbled, glad I hadn’t actually drank <em> too </em> much of my drink yet to still be able to keep in full control.</p><p> </p><p>“Frank Kupiec, NCPD.” <em> there </em> it was, though he hadn’t pulled out the badge for confirmation. Just set his hands on his hips and looked at me with such a serious goddamn look in his eye, I wanted to throw my drink on him just to see him pull something else. </p><p> </p><p>“And what does Mr. Kupiec want from <em> me </em>?” </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve come to warn you.” he said, and I had a kneejerk reaction to sit up. “Right now, this club is swarming with Arasaka assassins. And you’ve gathered all your rebellious little friends up in one spot.”</p><p> </p><p>I froze, and swallowed. Rogue was still talking to Aurelio, paying me no heed at all. And Johnny was on stage, still singing his heart out and having a great time. Fuck. I scanned the bar - how many of these people were Arasaka? </p><p> </p><p>“And what proof do you have?” I asked, wanting to be double certain before I did <em> anything </em>. </p><p> </p><p>He reached into his pocket, and offered me something. A little tub, with a label on it that was scribbled out hastily - real fucking dodgy. </p><p> </p><p>“Your drinks have been spiked. Trackers, smaller than a pinhead. They’re already in your system and they won’t leave unless you take one of these.” </p><p> </p><p>I snorted. “You expect me to believe that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Run a body scan. You’ll notice things are blocked, can’t access certain cyberware.”</p><p> </p><p>Nervously, I did as told. I hated running body scans, always made me wanna throw up. Still, I forced a manual checkup, and - <em> fuck </em> he was right. My scanners in my Kiroshis were just slightly off, throwing off certain signals. Couldn’t hear certain sounds.</p><p> </p><p>“And what are these?” I asked, rattling the tub. </p><p> </p><p>“An antivenom, if you like. They’ll replace the trackers in your system.”</p><p> </p><p>“With ones owned by the NCPD? No thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You have no choice, V.” Frank said sharply, pinning me to my spot with his stare. “If you don’t take this pill and try to run, Arasaka will follow you. And they’ll keep following.”</p><p> </p><p>Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was my worst nightmare made real; literally handing myself over to the same corpos we’d been running from for months. And finally we were happy - as much as we could be - and settled. Comfortable. Being normal people again. The second we let our guards down and bam. We were all fucked. Rogue included. </p><p> </p><p>“Shit.” I cursed, before quickly unscrewing the cap and downing one of the pills. I quickly set aside my glass. I didn’t even know if these things were safe yet but if they’d spiked all our drinks then… Rogue would have to take a pill, Aurelio. Johnny. All the members of Samurai. But was being traceable by the NCPD all that much better than Arasaka? I turned back to the cop, glaring, “Why would you warn me? What do you get outta it?”</p><p> </p><p>He offered me his hand to shake. “Not all of us follow orders blindly. Maybe some of us want your little venture to succeed.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re sayin’ a <em> cop </em> wants to help us take down Arasaka?”</p><p> </p><p>“More than just me.”</p><p> </p><p>Unlikely story, but I’d already chosen to trust him so far. Was too late to spit the pill back up. Slowly, I reached out and shook his hand. He had a firm grip; squeezed my hand so tight it hurt. Wait… That error didn’t look good. Top left corner of my vision, flashing red. </p><p> </p><p>“You motherfucker.” I barely spat out, before I twisted his goddamn arm backward. </p><p> </p><p>As he exclaimed and crumpled under my grip, Rogue jumped to her feet, suddenly alert. She had the barrel of a gun pressed to the guy’s head in a second, flashing a look at me.</p><p> </p><p>“Who is this guy?” she asked, but for the life of me, I couldn’t formulate the words. Like my brain had given up on trying to figure out sounds, my muscles had given up on forming shapes. I released Frank’s - if that was even his real name - hand, stepped back and set my hand firmly on the bar. Were there even Arasaka assassins here? Or was that a lie too? What was his goal? </p><p> </p><p>I vaguely heard Rogue telling Aurelio to bring his car around. Mutely watched her knock the guy out with the back of her gun, professionally ignoring the stares we were getting. When she’d checked he was out like a light, she stood and checked me over. </p><p> </p><p>“V? You with me?” she asked, clamping a hand on my arm, steadying me. </p><p> </p><p>“Virus.” I managed, and my throat felt like it had closed up. Fuck, this thing was fast-acting. Couldn’t <em> believe </em> I’d been so gullible - like the last twenty something years on the streets meant nothing. I’d just trusted the first gonk who’d offered me an out to a threat I didn’t know was real. It was okay, give it a few minutes, maybe ten, and I’d be right. I’d be fine. Maybe a bit shaky, but fine. </p><p> </p><p>Aurelio wasn’t very happy that he was designated to carrying the guy out like he hadn’t come here to unwind. Rogue walked with me, and I vaguely heard Aurelio waving round the excuse that <em> Frank </em> was that one friend who couldn’t handle his drink. I hated that I needed the air outside instead of being back in that bar, watching Johnny perform. Fuck. Shit. I was so stupid, so goddamn stupid. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m okay.” I breathed out when finally, things settled a bit. There was a quiet buzzing in the back of my head, and my fingers were twitchy - my new metal ones, in particular. I’d packed only two things in my purse, a handgun and some meds. I took two puffs, and after a minute, they settled. </p><p> </p><p>“You should get it checked out still.” suggested Rogue and I nodded. I’d see Vik in the morning. “Now, tell me what that guy talked to you about. Was he just a guy tryna spike you or was it deeper?”</p><p> </p><p>I sighed. “He knew my name. Said he was in the NCPD, spun some story about the club being full of ‘Saka assassins. Told me the drinks were spiked, this’d cure it.” </p><p> </p><p>She took the little tub of pills out of my hand, and frowned at it. Didn’t call me out on my stupidity, she probably knew I already had <em> that </em> under wraps. Rogue pocketed the tub, and nodded. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll go see a trusted ripper, check if his story about the spikes have any validity. Also check what the hell he gave you - I’ll hit you up on the holo when I know more.” she got to her feet, “Unless you wanna come with?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah,” I shook my head, “Wanna stay here, wait for Johnny.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright. You sure you’re feeling okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. Never better.”</p><p> </p><p>By then, I felt dumber than I felt unwell. Sorta queasy, like I was bordering on eating a bit too much even if my stomach was empty; if I threw up, all that’d make an appearance was some saliva and alcohol. So I tried very hard to breathe and keep it in. My systems were still a little fucked, scanners blocked. Rogue left, joined by Aurelio in the car - their new buddy Frank out cold in the trunk. Still, it’d be okay. It’d be fine.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, though, I still felt uneasy reentering the bar. Was I just being paranoid? Or did it really feel like people were watching me? Like there were a dozen pairs of eyes on me? I didn’t even return to the bar - just made a beeline for the door to backstage. A pair of roadies were stood guarding it, but I barged my way through. Cautiously, I peered up the stairs to the stage, unable to stop the worry gnawing at my insides. They were all easy pickings up there. All too easy targets. </p><p> </p><p>All of a sudden, it felt like the music was… Missing something. Kerry and Johnny kept playing, Denny slamming the drums, Bes on keyboard. But the low strum of the bass… Why’d Henry stopped? </p><p> </p><p>And then, unceremoniously, Henry collapsed. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:)</p><p>I will absolutely try to get the next chapter out faster, especially considering it was sorta cliff-hangery here! </p><p>I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr! Come and hang out with me in the <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Cyberpunks discord server</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Paranoid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>MAY 06th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / City Centre, Downtown … 10:10PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>In the last week, I'd grown to like my new mismatched eyes. Red and blue weren't a combo I usually went for, thought they clashed independently, but I did love a good bit of purple when they were mixed. However I'd definitely started to get used to looking in the mirror in the morning and seeing them reflected back at me. They were a statement. I liked them, even if they didn't match. </p><p> </p><p>Wasn't sure if I liked red and blue as individual colours anymore though. The flashing lights atop the NCPD patrol car was enough to make me sick, sitting out here on the sidewalk. </p><p> </p><p>Things had very swiftly gone to shit. Surprise, surprise, Henry didn't have Trauma Team coverage, so when he'd collapsed, no one knew what to do. Kerry swiftly put an end to the show and I'd stood around helplessly while he and Johnny carried their bandmate backstage. I'd scanned him for injuries - a gunshot wound, maybe, blood, <em> anything </em>. But he was still breathing, and on the surface, unhurt. So what the fuck was going on? </p><p> </p><p>"Does anyone know what he's actually taken?" I had asked, while Kerry huffed, began pacing. Between them, Denny and Bes looked so pissed they could've exploded. Sure, Henry had ruined their show, but the bigger problem really was making sure he wasn't silently dying and we just didn't know. </p><p> </p><p>"No clue." Kerry shrugged, "Was done by the time I'd found him." </p><p> </p><p>I took it upon myself to check the bathrooms. I'd done enough sleuthing in my time to pick up a breadcrumb trail, but Johnny insisted on coming with; kicked out the pair of guys in there who left grumbling. We musta looked like we were coming in here for a quick fuck, all sweaty and hectic. Still, I checked over the sinks with my optics while Johnny had the unfortunate task of checking the trash. I found traces of something, of a white powder Johnny confirmed at the very least <em> looked </em>like cocaine. </p><p> </p><p>"Coulda been a bad batch." he'd said, elbow deep in the trash can, "Or spiked. Maybe Henry's just havin' a real bad reaction." </p><p> </p><p>From what I knew of Henry, he was a druggie through and through. So it seemed a bit odd that he could've had such an alarming reaction to a drug that was - as far as I knew - really fucking common in the early twenty-first century. Henry wasn't exactly a newb with this funny white powder, probably done it hundreds of times. It was more than likely then that it <em> was </em> a bad batch; or, as my mind was screaming at me, <em> spiked </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny's digging paid off. He'd need a long, hard shower later to wash off the stench, but he'd found a small plastic packet with a tiny bit of residue of the powder left in it. I pocketed it for later - could take it to River, see if any of his buds in the real NCPD could help us out. </p><p> </p><p>But then and there, it was more important to get Henry checked. By the time we'd come back from the bathroom, the vibe in the bar had been brutally murdered; somebody had already called the cops. So, I'd spent the last ten minutes being lookout whilst Samurai figured out a way to smuggle Henry out without being asked questions. NCPD didn't need to be involved, especially ones I couldn't trust. After detective Frank whatever-the-fuck earlier, didn't wanna touch any of them with a ten foot pole, legit or not. </p><p> </p><p>"It's safe, hurry." I said quickly when I watched the officer who'd been on very dedicated smoke duty toss his cig, and return to the patrol car. Johnny was on holo. Not a minute later, he and Kerry emerged from the stage entrance with Henry between them, arm over each of their shoulders. Still showing no sign of coming to. </p><p> </p><p>"I can take him to my doc," Kerry said as they passed; between me and the girls, we managed to form a reasonably decent line blocking the view from the rest of the lot. Kerry was driving some shitty old Mizutani, not at all his style. But then again, he'd also turned up to confront Us Cracks dressed as stereotypical thug as he could get, so his disguise would always nosedive right past subtlety. Johnny helped him lay Henry in the tiny back seat, and they both stretched in relief. Must've been heavier than he looked. </p><p> </p><p>"We found what he was takin'," I showed off the tiny plastic bag, careful not to wriggle it and potentially lose any of the remainder left behind. Henry had tried his best to use it all up. "I have a friend who could find out what it was." </p><p> </p><p>"I mean, that's great, V, but my doc could do the same." </p><p> </p><p>"No, there's more to this, Kerry. I gotta know where it came from, what's goin' on." </p><p> </p><p>I got tired real quick of the four identical judgy expressions staring at me. I didn't give a shit if I looked paranoid. Plus, my goddamn head was still pounding with that little buzzing at the back of my head - needed to clean out this virus stat. Huffing, I turned on my heel and headed for the Porsche at the other end of the lot, toeing off those stupid fucking heels and carrying them the rest of the way. Johnny still had the damn keys, so I perched on the hood while I swiped through my holo contacts; found River near the bottom. </p><p> </p><p>It took a few rings, and when he picked up, he sounded like he'd just woke up. I mean, it was middle of the night, not a shock. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Hey, V, you okay </em>?" he asked, voice all gruff and gravelly. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I'm… Fine." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Not sure I liked that hesitation </em>." </p><p> </p><p>I sighed, shook my head. "Migraine, got a virus. Gotta clean it, but I need you to do somethin' for me." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Sure thing. It's not anythin' too complicated, I hope - brain's still asleep </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"Nah, nothin' taxin'. You got any friends in the force still that can analyse a drug for me?" </p><p> </p><p>River hesitated. "<em> Yeah, I do. You haven't taken anythin' dodgy, have you, V </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>I <em> had </em>but that wasn't important. "Not me, a friend. Some coke, old drug, think it's been spiked. He collapsed. On the way to a doc now but I wanna know where it's come from." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Not just wanna wait til he's better to ask </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>"No, I need to know now, River. Situation's fucked. Not waitin' around for it to fuck <em> me </em>." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny had evidently said his goodbyes to his bandmates; came up with ax in hand. And, bizarrely, with Nancy at his side. She had such a serious expression on her face, professional. Like she was about to do digging for a big scoop. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Alright, I can meet you by the del Rey station in about thirty, got a friend there that never goddamn sleeps. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, River." I sighed, expecting the predictable little twitch out of the corner of my eye from Johnny. "I owe you another one." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Don't worry 'bout it. Go get that virus sorted, see you soon </em>." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny shot me a look. A grumpy, <em> what the fuck V </em>kinda look. </p><p> </p><p>"What did Ward want?" he asked, setting his free hand on his hip. </p><p> </p><p>"It was what <em> I </em>want, actually." I corrected, and jerked my head at the car. "Drive me back home and I'll take Shit-heap, got stuff to take care of." </p><p> </p><p>He chuckled, though it wasn't very mirthful. Full of disbelief. "And you're insane if you think I'm lettin' you go anywhere on your own in this city anymore." </p><p> </p><p>"Not a baby, Johnny, can take care of myself." </p><p> </p><p>But he wasn't listening. He unlocked the Porsche and opened the passenger side door; pulled back the chair and Bes slid into the back seat, took his guitar case off him to sit beside her. </p><p> </p><p>"And are you gonna explain why Bes is comin' with?" I asked as he rounded the car again, stopping in front of me. The hood of the car was cold as fuck, but I wasn't gonna budge unless he gave up on this quest to make me feel small. </p><p> </p><p>"She knows you know somethin' is goin' on. Nance hates Henry as much as Den, but even she won't let somethin' slide it someone's fucked with us."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh so she's after a story?" I snorted, folded my arms. "Great, because we need reporters shoving their faces up our asses."</p><p> </p><p>Johnny huffed out an impressive gust of hot air, "Not what's goin' on, V. Don't be a bitch." </p><p> </p><p>"Do you even believe me? Or do you think I'm bein' paranoid?" </p><p> </p><p>"I don't know what to think. My show just got fucked in the ass and now you're bitchin' at me. Just get in the car." </p><p> </p><p>I raised my brow. If anything, I just slid further back on the hood, crossed one leg over the other. River wouldn't mind if I was a little late, especially if it was to piss off Johnny. </p><p> </p><p>"V." Johnny said firmly, "Don't fuckin' push me right now. I'm not in the mood." </p><p> </p><p>"Neither am I." I shrugged. "You think your life is so bad because your little show got fucked up? While you were up there havin' a grand old time, I was gettin' spiked by the bar."</p><p> </p><p>His head snapped around to look at me but before he could even open his mouth, I held up a hand and slid off the car. Waltzed round to the passenger side and threw open the door. But before I got in, I shot him a scowl. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, maybe it was a good thing I <em> did </em> invite Rogue, huh?" I snapped, before getting in and slamming the door got good measure. <em> That </em>knocked any concern off his face, and he stormed around to the driver's side, getting in next to me. </p><p> </p><p>"Don't slam the fuckin' door. Only just got fixed." he scolded and all I could do was laugh. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, you think I don't know? The dent that repair bill put into my pocket wasn't exactly painless, y'know." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Our </em>pocket." </p><p> </p><p>"Bitch, <em> please </em>, you wouldn't know the first thing about our situation. You just roll up, do nothin', and live comfy." </p><p> </p><p>Bes cleared her throat in the back - felt bad for her really, but the way Johnny was glaring at me, eyes so full of fucking fury, all I could feel was smug. His fleshy hand gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles went white. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, watch it," I pointed out helpfully with a friendly smile, "You'll break the steering wheel you keep squeezing like that." </p><p> </p><p>"Shut the fuck up." </p><p> </p><p>Admittedly, that sorta talk wouldn't usually bother me. But coming from him after so long of being better than civil? I just hoped my flinch wasn't too obvious. </p><p> </p><p>"Just start the fuckin' car, asshole. Take me to Vik's." </p><p> </p><p>He turned the ignition, but still shot me a side-eye. "Why there? Thought you wanted to go kiss ass to that pig." </p><p> </p><p>"I'm meeting River after. Need to purge this fuckin' bug." I dazzled him with a smile, "Y'know, the one that was put into my system while you were off doin' your little guitar thing." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Little guitar thing?" </em>he echoed as he pulled the car outta park and onto the street. "I see how it is. What is it you do again? Take eddies off any gonk that'll pay you to do literally anythin'?"</p><p> </p><p>"Ah, correction: I won't <em> fuck </em> for eddies. I'm not a whore." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny scoffed harshly, and grit his teeth. Focused on the road, and <em> I </em> turned my attention out of the window. This really was <em> not </em>the way I'd pictured this evening going. Was maybe hoping for a triumphant return for Samurai; Johnny'd kiss me so hard with that adrenaline rush that I'd near faint for lack of breath. We'd drive home giddy, fuck for hours, fall asleep contended and happy. </p><p> </p><p>But nope. In what world could <em> that </em>happen? </p><p> </p><p>"Sorry you had to see all that, Bes." I offered her a smile in the rear view mirror, "Johnny's just a perpetual child." </p><p> </p><p>"And you're a fuckin' bitch." he muttered and I just forced a wider smile. </p><p> </p><p>Bes waved a hand at me. "It's okay. Stressful night, I get it." </p><p> </p><p>The drive to Vik's was silent and awkward as all hell. Johnny went to put on music but I slapped his hand away from the radio - head was pounding. I cracked open my window and he closed it again. I opened it. He closed it. I gave him the finger and opened it again. When finally he took the turn into the depressing little sliver of alley by Misty's, I opened the door before he'd even pulled on the brake. </p><p> </p><p>"No, stay here. Don't want you followin' me." I snapped when he reached for his own handle. His turn to flip me off, and he slammed his hand on the horn when I threw the door shut again. A shadow moved, but I realised it was just a cat darting away at the racket. Somewhere down the street, someone yelled about the noise; couldn't tell who, too many people still crowding the windows with the joytoy holograms in. </p><p> </p><p>Misty looked ready to close up, but welcomed me in eagerly. "V, you look so lovely!" she complimented my outfit, because I knew full well my makeup was smudged and I probably looked like a wreck. I thanked her and she walked down with me to Vik's clinic; he was cleaning up some sharp tools when we walked in. Looked me up and down with a raised brow. </p><p> </p><p>"Night out on the town gone wrong?" he asked with a sigh, "Story I've heard a dozen times, kid. What's up?"</p><p> </p><p>"Some gonk tricked me and I fell for it, hook, line and sinker. Got a nasty bug. Knocked back a pill, headache since, feelin' twitchy." </p><p> </p><p>"Siddown, I'll have a look." </p><p> </p><p>Whilst Vik was jacking me up to his operating chair, my holo buzzed with a message. From Rogue - dropping a subtle hint about our "new friend" now in the care of Commander Torres. And a name too, for the drug. Some obscure, painfully long, tongue twister of a name. Like most medical pills and stuff; showed it to Vik. </p><p> </p><p>"That shit's got a kick, but nothin' too deadly." he explained while he swiped his way through various screens. "Mild hallucinogenic, nothin' to the scale of whatchya used to. Will explain the blocked systems and twitch." </p><p> </p><p>"But what about before that?" I asked, "Before I'd even popped the pill I ran a self-scan and I believed him, Vik. My Kiroshis were cherry pickin'." </p><p> </p><p>"Nah, that ain't your Kiroshis, kid." he said with a sad shake of his head, tapped his temple, "That's all up here."</p><p> </p><p><em> Sure </em> . I wanted to grumble back. I knew what I'd seen but… Was it really that far of a stretch to say my head had painted a picture all on its own? I mean, my <em> brain </em> had had a brain before, but that was Johnny's fucking tumour spreading all over. This was different. This was me, this was <em> my </em>fault. I'd given in so easily to my fucking fear that I probably could've believed anything that guy had told me if I hadn't had that error. </p><p> </p><p>"And where's Silverhand, anyway? He's meant to be takin' care of ya." he asked, and I groaned. Rolled my eyes. Vik cracked a grin. "Ah, dog house, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>"He's bein' a fuckin' idiot. I've already got a headache because of this virus, don't need him at it too." </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, not judgin'."</p><p> </p><p>Vik got me spic and span in no time. I mean, I felt a little woozy, wobbled a little on my feet when I got up, but the headache faded fast. I blinked and my Kiroshis felt normal again - I was still more willing to bet on the virus being the blocker, than my own stupidity. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright, take it easy now, kid." Vik said as I headed for the door. "Go home, get warmed up. Sleep. Got any problems, come see me first thing tomorrow." </p><p> </p><p>"Will do. Thanks, Vik." I said, even though I had no intention of following through. </p><p> </p><p>Misty didn't try to press any questions on me as we walked back up to her shop. My feet were killing me, but I'd decided I'd rather walk around in the heels again than barefoot on this cold concrete anymore than I had to. I said my goodbyes and returned to the car. Clambered in and tried not to make my breath of relief at the hot air very obvious. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny was smoking, hotboxing the fucking car. I cracked open my window again - rather be cold than choke on that smoke. He didn't even offer me one; actually went so far as to grab his case off the dash when I got in, pocketed it. </p><p> </p><p>"Where now, your Majesty?" Johnny grumbled as he released the hand brake. </p><p> </p><p>"Vista del Rey. Meetin' River at the station." </p><p> </p><p>"Nah." he decided abruptly, and I twisted in my chair to stare at him. After a minute, he pulled the cig from his lips and returned my glare. "You're gonna get cold runnin' round in that skimpy dress all night. Gonna take you home to get changed first." </p><p> </p><p>I scoffed. "No you ain't. Not dressin' for your sake." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh. So, what? You dressed up like that with your tits and ass out like that for anyone else?" </p><p> </p><p>"Maybe I did it for River." </p><p> </p><p>Low blow, I knew. But any regret I felt was easily overpowered by smugness when he shot me a dirty glare. </p><p> </p><p>"Besides, don't got time. Was meant to meet him five minutes ago but your slow-ass drivin' took forever to get to Vik's." I added, turning to look out the window again so I couldn't see his furious stare anymore. </p><p> </p><p>Bes cleared her throat behind us again. "I would rather Johnny <em> isn't </em>encouraged to put his foot down. Doesn't end well." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck off, Nance." Johnny grumbled. Just saw her smirk in the rear view mirror. Still, instead of heading through Downtown again to our apartment, Johnny put his foot down and flew us right through the fast lanes in the City Centre. By the time we made it to Vista del Rey station, it has only been a short drive but Johnny has smoked three cigs. Hands didn't loosen their grip on that wheel right up until he killed the engine and got out of the car. </p><p> </p><p>He stormed off towards the door to the station, still lit from the inside. I could see River nearby and I only hoped Johnny wouldn't do anything stupid while I let Bes outta the back. </p><p> </p><p>"Seriously, he's not normally this childish anymore." I promised as I offered her a hand, and shut the door behind when she was stood up beside me. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, not my place to judge. If you don't mind, I'll stay clear out of it." she held up her hands, "I'm only here to find out if some fucker targeted Henry."</p><p> </p><p>"So this isn't just a scoop?" </p><p> </p><p>"Nah, a dozen medias are already gonna be on our ass, spinnin' some story about how a rumoured Samurai reunion was fucked when the bassist collapsed." Bes sighed, ran a hand through her loose curls. "Henry's fucked in the head, but… Seriously, guy can't catch a break. I wasn't there for it, but Denny told me he had an accident not long after we broke up in '08. He was already broken then, but shit, he's a mess now. If we don't help him, who will, y'know?"</p><p> </p><p>"I get it. And we'll find out who sold him these drugs, Bes, I promise." </p><p> </p><p>She gave me a weary smile. "I didn't mean <em> we </em>as in me and you. I meant Samurai - we're as close to family as Henry's got. But hell, I think you've already earned a spot as out honorary member. Albeit tone-deaf." </p><p> </p><p>That got a little laugh outta me. Even if Johnny was doing his very best to be a fuckhead tonight, at least Bes was here to keep things somewhat civil. And soon, River too; Johnny could grumble and curse him all he liked, but wouldn't dare do anything physically aggressive. Even if he might've deserved a decent punch right now. </p><p> </p><p>I opened the glass door to the station and held it open for Bes. Surprised, really, that someone hadn't smashed it up. Fuck, Johnny was right about it being cold but I wasn't about to let him know that. River was busy tryna tell Johnny he couldn't smoke in here, but that wasn't doing <em> anything </em>to stop him. </p><p> </p><p>"Seriously, Johnny, cut it the fuck out." I snapped as we came close, "Don't need you fuckin' this up and gettin' us kicked out. Lose it or wait in the car." </p><p> </p><p>"Stop barkin' orders, princess." he drawled, "You don't wanna make me pissy."</p><p> </p><p>"Sounds like fun." I said sweetly, and before he could reply, I turned to River. He'd said he'd try to stop flirting with me, but the way he was looking at me was so painfully obvious that I couldn't help but shift on my feet. "Hey." </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, V." he smiled, "You look-" </p><p> </p><p>"Great. Hot. Sexy." Johnny cut in, "But don't let it fool you. She's a bitch at heart." </p><p> </p><p>I rolled my eyes, not even giving him the satisfaction of a response. It was like I'd flipped a switch; this evening had started with him fucking cuddling me in the shower while I cried like a pussy. And now he was cursing me out every other word; with every remark, I wound him up tighter, and someone it was too satisfying to stop. He was being a dick and he knew it. </p><p> </p><p>"River, this is Bes-Isis, a friend." I introduced. He offered her a hand and she shook it, cocking her head. </p><p> </p><p>"I recognise you. A friend a while back in crime journalism wrote a story." she pondered. </p><p> </p><p>"Nothin' bad, I hope." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh no, don't worry - it was a piece paid for by the corpos on the opposing side to the ones you busted. Big splash deal, painted you and your boys in blue in a dozen sparkly colours." </p><p> </p><p>River didn't appear too pleased about it, simply nodded gruffly. Then, he began down the hallway, beckoning us with him - nodded friendly to the guy behind the desk who conveniently turned his gaze aside when we passed. Johnny was looking at me while we walked, and when I returned it, he pretended suddenly that the wall was instead more interesting. </p><p> </p><p>I handed off our little bag of evil evidence to River's friend - a tired looking lanky fellow, who had bags so deep under his eyes he perfectly fit that description of "he never goddamn sleeps." </p><p> </p><p>"Jeez, where the hell did you get this?" he asked noisily as he turned to his lab. Couldn't even begin to understand half the stuff he had set up. "Haven't seen anyone doing this stuff for years." </p><p> </p><p>"Unfortunate friend is old-school." I explained, crossing my arms over my chest. "I just wanna know if there's anythin' wrong with it. Where it came from, if possible." </p><p> </p><p>"What, apart from the fact it's cocaine?" he grumbled, and I huffed. Guy was sleep-deprived and sassy, the best combo on <em> anyone </em> for obvious reasons. Still, he sighed and loaded up the dregs at the bottom of the bag Henry hadn’t managed to quite empty into a tiny container and into a machine. "I mean, just from a basic breakdown scan, it's not pure in any way. It's not <em> old-school </em>, like your buddy might've hoped - it's synth-coke, nasty shit. Usual side effects, paranoia, addiction, but… Yeah, see here?" </p><p> </p><p>Bes and I leaned over his shoulder to take a closer inspection. It was nonsense to me of course, didn't understand any of the technical bibble-babble, but even Johnny woulda been able to tell that about a quarter of the dots on screen were <em> not </em>the same as the rest. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm not quite sure what it is on first glance," the techie admitted, "But that's definitely not coke, or synth-coke. Whoever your buddy bought this from was either out to make a killing selling bad drugs, or was actually tryna kill him." </p><p> </p><p>"Is there any way to trace it back to the dealer?" I asked. An impossible task, really. I knew it was even as I asked. </p><p> </p><p>"I can work miracles with a triple-shot espresso, but I'm not Jesus. This is where you cop-types investigate, I'm just here for my stat-twenty intelligence rolls." </p><p> </p><p>"Don't know what the fuck that means. Thanks for nothin'."</p><p> </p><p>River grabbed my arm before I could storm out like I wanted to. Killed my stride, pulled me to a stop so abruptly I could've gotten whiplash had I been going any faster. Fuck, I always forgot how strong he was. </p><p> </p><p>"I can do some diggin', V." he offered, "I mean, PI's my thing now, I can find your guy." </p><p> </p><p>"And I'll help you." said Bes, "I don't usually cover this sorta stuff, but I'm still a media. I can pull on resources you can't." </p><p> </p><p>"That'd be appreciated." River gave her a firm nod of thanks, before turning back to me again. He seemed to realise by then that he was still holding me - he released his grip quickly, stepping back. "You should head home, V, get some sleep. I don't know if there's much you can do for now." </p><p> </p><p>I didn't wanna go home. Going home would mean Johnny'd open his mouth, and either we'd talk about it like adults - unlikely - or another shouting match would start. I didn't have the energy for it. Just wanted to crawl into bed and fall asleep, but I didn't want him to be on the other side. And if I kicked him to the couch, he'd bitch at me. If <em> I </em> went to the couch without a word, he'd bitch at me. </p><p> </p><p>"He's right." Johnny spoke up for the first time from by the door. He was leaned against the wall on one shoulder, arms stiffly folded, a scowl on his face by default. "We need sleep." </p><p> </p><p>I swallowed the stubborn lump in my throat and nodded. "Goodnight, River, Bes. Good luck - hit me up as soon as you find anythin'." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny was dragging his feet on the way out. Despite apparently wanting to go home, he was doing everything he could to do the opposite to my brisk pace even in these heels. Like he'd agreed with River of all people <em> just </em> to piss me off. Very big of him to get over himself to side with the guy he doesn't like - also <em> expertly </em>mature to do it just to annoy me. </p><p> </p><p>The car was locked when I tried to go back. Asshole had locked it with those fancy new keys Aurelio had upgraded us to, ones that didn't require you to manually jiggle a key in the lock like ye olde times. I waited by the door with my arms around myself to fend off the cold - and just my luck, it started raining by the time Johnny had finally made his way outside. </p><p> </p><p>"Told you you'd get cold." he said spitefully as the Porsche's headlights flashed, and the door clicked open. I didn't even respond, just hauled open the door and got inside. Fuck, the leather was bitingly icy on my thighs. When he finally got in beside me, he shrugged outta his jacket, and wordlessly tossed it over my knees. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks." I muttered. He might be an asshole but I wasn't about to stoop to being pointedly ignorant of his brief kindness. </p><p> </p><p>The drive home felt like it took forever. I reached for the radio, turning it low, listened to the soft, gentle lull of Pacific Dreams. With my forehead against the cold glass of the window, watching the rain pitter patter down, I almost fell asleep. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "Good evening, Night City! Hope you're all enjoying your nights of partying, drinking and debauchery!" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>I sighed, let my eyes close over. Could not be bothered listening to Stanley's bounding optimism tonight, but couldn't be assed to turn it off neither. He rambled about some storm - torrential summer downpour, everyone's favourite. Well if this was the <em> storm </em>, I wouldn't mind. I liked rain. This wasn't even heavy rain either, just moody spitting from the heavens like some Claw tryna clean his boots. </p><p> </p><p>When Johnny pulled up outside the apartment building, I handed him back his jacket and made the uncomfortable walk to the cover by the door while I waited for him. Would've preferred to dash outta the rain, but in these heels with the ache of my feet, I think I would've rather just stood under the rain until I was soaked through. </p><p> </p><p>It was cold in the apartment, and my skin was covered in goosebumps thanks to the cold. Stupid fucking dress. Never should've worn it, should probably throw it out. I didn't even need half the pretty clothes in my wardrobe, made no goddamn sense. Waste of money, waste of time. Who cared what I looked like? I tore off my jacket and lashed it at the wall, kicking off my heels and throwing them too. Fuck, dented the plasterboard. What did it matter if it was dented? Did any of this shit matter? </p><p> </p><p>I was spiralling again. I set my hands firmly on the island counter, forced myself to breathe. I'd already had a fucking embarrassment tonight in the shower, and then another with that Frank fiasco that Johnny still didn't know about. I didn't need to crumble <em> again </em>, I already looked like a pussy. A weakling. </p><p> </p><p>Felt his hand on my waist. With an uneasy sigh, I turned around, and let him kiss me. It was the usual, I guess - fight, fuck, make up. Except the raging pace of my heart wasn't because of him and I found myself pulling away. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm tired, Johnny." I murmured, but my fingers didn't let go of his shirt. They were twisted up in the fabric against his chest, tight little fists; when I realised, I let him go. Hesitated with my hands hovering uselessly between us. They were shaking. </p><p> </p><p>"We don't gotta do anythin'." he said, but he didn't move away neither. He reached up and caught my hands in his; drew them back to him, placed them against his chest. He was warm, and firm, and it struck me again even after all this time, that he was real. Real and solid and here. "Just wanna be close to you, V." </p><p> </p><p>"Even though I'm a bitch?" </p><p> </p><p>"You know I didn't mean that. Didn't mean any of that shit." </p><p> </p><p>Wordlessly, I gave in. My head wanted sleep, my body wanted a break, but my heart wanted the same thing he did. So I wound my arms around his neck and pressed my face into his shoulder; felt his squeeze around my back, pull me flush against him. One hand slipped lower, but it wasn't even in a conscious way. He patted my ass. </p><p> </p><p>"Up, come on." he murmured, and I let go of him only for a second to wriggle my dress up, and hop up into his arms. Aside from a little grunt, he managed my weight pretty well, and carried me over to the bed. We were both tired, we'd established that - but it didn't discourage either of us when he slipped between my legs and for a little while, let me forget about all the shit that had happened today. It was incredible, really, how good of a tool sex was to chase away bad thoughts. For a little while, anyway. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny fell asleep pretty fast. I tossed and turned for a bit, and when sleep didn't come for me, I sat up and paced around the apartment a bit. Daisy was intent on following me, so I took her collar off so she wouldn't jingle so much as she walked. I hoped walking around would tire me out, but if anything it just gave my brain an excuse to be more awake. </p><p> </p><p>What the fuck had gotten into me? How had I believed that fuckhead <em> Frank </em> - if that was even his name - so easily? I hadn't ever been so paranoid in my life, not even when we first started running from Arasaka. Back then I'd triple check our hotel room door was locked, shove every piece of furniture in the way, barricade the windows. I'd never flick the safety off my gun, I could at any given time tell anyone who asked how much ammo I had on my person. But at the very least, I'd had my fucking <em> brain </em>. I'd never let myself think about how much the Maelstrom business had messed with me; I refused to think it did. I'd told Misty about it and got it off my chest and that was that. That was the end of it. It should've been wrapped up then and there to not think about again, to just be a funny story to tell in a few years of how stupid V had gotten jumped so easily. </p><p> </p><p>But I sank down onto the edge of the couch and caught myself chewing down what remained of my nails. Vik was right - I wasn't in the right frame of mind to be back out and about again. He hadn't said <em> that </em>but it was plain from how he'd talked about the Kiroshi situation that he didn't believe for a goddamn second that my tech had fucked up. It made sense, I guess; that not even the cold, hard logic of computers were immune to the sway of the fucked up human brain. </p><p> </p><p>In the end I curled up on the couch and watched the TV on a low, mumbling volume. Daytime television was one thing, but NC night shows were just fucking garbo. Some channels were bordering on goddamn porn, others were some sad saps of dramas that couldn't make it onto better slots during the day. It didn't really matter what I ended up watching, because I wasn't really <em> seeing </em>. Just staring, running my hand down Daisy's back in my lap. </p><p> </p><p>By the time my body felt like it might actually, <em> finally </em> sleep, the sun was coming up. With a sigh I headed out onto the balcony, and Daisy trotted after me and did her morning business - thankfully on the <em> other </em>end to where I decided to stand. I folded my arms across my chest, air bitingly cold through my thin t-shirt. Was Johnny's, actually. Stanely hadn't been kidding when he said storm season was upon us; the sky was depressingly grey, and the great clusterfuck on the horizon looked like unending torrential downpour on its way. With a sigh, I lit a light, and had my first cigarette in what felt like months; it was oddly relieving, soothing almost. </p><p> </p><p>Something moved outta the corner of my eye. I flinched instinctively, and grumbled a, "Fuck," under my breath when I realised Johnny was hovering by the open balcony door. </p><p> </p><p>"How long you been standin' there?" I asked, turning to face him. He unfolded his arms and crossed the handful of paces to reach me, clocking his head to the side. </p><p> </p><p>"Long enough." he said simply, vaguely. I stubbed out the end of my cig into the ashtray on the low table by our feet, and ignored the way he was looking at me. "You didn't sleep at all did you?" </p><p> </p><p>He didn't even sound accusing. Not grumpy, or angry. Yet I still got defensive instinctively. </p><p> </p><p>"Couldn't. Head's fucked, what did you expect?" </p><p> </p><p>"Easy, tiger." he held up his hands innocently, and I huffed a sigh. "You should go and try, get a few winks. Promise, I'll wake you if your cell rings."</p><p> </p><p>I quirked a brow. "Cell?" </p><p> </p><p>"Ah, shit. Holo-thing, whatever." </p><p> </p><p>I couldn't help the way my lips twitched. "You're such a boomer." </p><p> </p><p>“Bitch I taught you that word.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I’m gonna make you regret it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Goody.” he drawled dryly, and laughed at the face I pulled when he slapped my ass as I passed by. I could’ve gone straight to the bed but curiosity got the better of me, and I wandered over to the desk instead. After he had a smoke, Johnny came to join me in clicking through the articles about last night; yep, there were already definitely theories about Samurai. Even more about Johnny's so-called "return from retirement." He laughed at that - the idea of him retiring at 35 had amused him <em> greatly </em>. </p><p> </p><p>"A true rocket either gets shot, or dies in some depressing, dingy backstage dressing room, o'd on somethin' that makes your heart just give up." he said, before heaving me up out of the chair. Unceremoniously tossed me on the bed, like I didn't weigh anything. "No one fuckin' retires. Not in this city." </p><p> </p><p>I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. When he flopped back down beside me, he was out like a light in a few minutes, dozing off for a couple more hours before it was really time to get up and face Night City again. I didn’t blame him; I didn’t wanna face it either. So I sighed, twisted round to lie on my back and stared up at the ceiling. Stared so long it made me dizzy, strangely enough - even though the ceiling was plastered a simple white, I could make out dozens of tiny dots like uniform freckles across its surface. Sighing, I trailed my eyes across them, tracing a pattern until I couldn’t quite make them out anymore with how far away they were from me.</p><p> </p><p>Something caught the light, and I found myself twisting my head to make it happen again; replicate the bizarre little reflection. A sheen of something in the corner, burrowed in that corner between ceiling and wall. Careful not to wake Johnny, I cautiously slipped out of bed and wandered over to the kitchen; Daisy, curious as ever, trotted over to follow me and let out a little yap when I started climbing the counters.</p><p> </p><p>“Shh!” I urged, and scrambled to dig a dog treat outta the box in the cupboard to distract her with; tossed it across the room and she left me be. I didn’t wanna have to explain to Johnny why the fuck I was climbing the kitchen if she woke him up again. But I could’ve <em> sworn </em> I saw something, something…</p><p> </p><p>Alarmingly like a camera. </p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck?” I murmured, and gave myself just five seconds to scan it. When the five seconds were up, I grabbed it and yanked - cables came with the tiny little orb of a thing, and they got stuck until I tore them entirely. With it in hand, and its design memorised, I checked for more; another at the desk, underneath the shelf behind it; another behind the holo projector of the tv; and third, <em> fucking weirdos </em>, in the bathroom. In the corner of the mirror Johnny had fucked me against too many times to feel comfortable about with this new knowledge. </p><p> </p><p>I spread out my findings on the ground back in the living area, brushing Daisy off when she wondered if they were new treats. These were fucking <em> tiny </em> - smaller than any camera I’d ever seen. But the lenses were so painfully obvious as those belonging to cameras, and I felt something disgustingly similar to bile in my throat at the idea. Someone had been fucking <em> spying </em> on us, and for how long? Was it just some sick fuck who got off on watching us? Or was it, like my paranoia was telling me, far deeper? </p><p> </p><p>Gathering them up out of Daisy’s reach, I set them on the kitchen counter and headed for the wardrobe. We couldn’t stay here anymore, not if someone had been in and out planting cameras. Fuck, that was why things were being misplaced. Things were moved. Some fuckhead was digging through out stuff. </p><p> </p><p>“Johnny. Johnny, wake up.” I urged when I’d grabbed the two duffle bags out of the bottom of the closet. I didn’t need to pack his stuff as well as mine, and he needed to be in on the know before I just sprung it on him that we were moving all of a sudden.</p><p> </p><p>He yawned and propped himself up, raising unimpressed eyebrows at me. I tried to catch him up on my discovery, but if anything, he only grew <em> more </em> unimpressed as I went on - as if he didn’t believe a word.</p><p> </p><p>“V, baby, you’re tired. Lotta shit went down yesterday. Just get some sleep.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not fuckin’ tired, Johnny.” I snapped. “I mean, I <em> am </em> but I’m not lyin’, neither. Look.”</p><p> </p><p>I scrambled for my evidence, nearly tripping over Daisy in my haste. I held them out to him when I made it back to the bed, and they gave him some pause - he sat up and plucked one out of my hand, rolled it about between his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s the size of a fuckin’ marble, V, are you sure they’re <em> cameras </em>?” Johnny asked incredulously, and I huffed.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Yes </em>. I’ve seen ones like them before, before Delamains were a really popular thing, all cabs had these. Ripped one out of an old cab me and Jackie busted once.” I said, and mulled it over myself, studying the remaining two in my hands, “They’re definitely smaller than they were when I last saw them. Pretty high quality feed though, and who the fuck knows where it’s sending this footage? Sooner we get up and out, the better. Might be able to track down where they came from, who planted them.”</p><p> </p><p>Johnny handed it back to me and slumped into the pillow with a loud huff. Planted his face square into it, and when he didn’t move for a minute, I couldn’t resist the urge to run a hand through his hair - how the <em> fuck </em> was it so soft and mine was all scratchy and dry when we used the same products? </p><p> </p><p>“I like this place.” he grumbled, voice all muffled. Least we agreed on that front.</p><p> </p><p>“Me too. Fuck, I didn’t wanna move already.”</p><p> </p><p>“You thought we’d need to?”</p><p> </p><p>I nodded, and for once I wasn’t happy to be right. “With Arasaka on our ass, yeah, totally. Plus I kinda figured you’d wanna go back into your old biz, so it wouldn’t surprise me if eventually someone tracked down our address just ‘cause Johnny Silverhand supposedly lives here.”</p><p> </p><p>He rolled over onto his side, and then abruptly, sat up with a soft groan; rubbed at his back. But with a sigh, he nodded, and shuffled to the end of the bed. “I’ll pack my stuff. How much we takin’?”</p><p> </p><p>“As much as we can carry. We’re not comin’ back.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck. <em> Shit </em>. God damn it.” </p><p> </p><p>I rubbed at his back and could relate to his frustration. “Hey, just imagine the next place. It’s gonna be even better, we’re makin’ big bucks lately.”</p><p> </p><p>He shot me a look over his shoulder. “It better have a balcony I can actually fuck you on.”</p><p> </p><p>Okay, there went my sympathy. He grinned at me, and got to his feet to start packing. At the very least, he wasn’t going off at me about being paranoid anymore; I didn’t know if I had the strength for that argument, and I wasn’t about to leave him here to storm off on my own because he wouldn’t listen. But somehow, with a warm little feeling in my chest, I figured he wouldn’t let that happen anyway. Slowly, he was becoming more and more like Daisy - trailing after me like a lost little pup. </p><p> </p><p>I liked our bed, but there was no way I was dismantling that just to dump it in the bed of Shit-heap. So instead we had to abandon it and our furniture, our cutlery and plates and glasses, most of the decor and plants I’d bought to spruce the place up a bit. All of it was replaceable really, and that was the saddest part; we’d spent months making this place a home and now it was all gone in an instant. Because some fuckhead had breached our privacy, invaded our one sanctuary. So we packed up our clothes - as many as we could fit into our bags, anyhow, considering we’d doubled our wardrobes since settling here - choosing to toss out anything older in favour of the newer, more flattering streetwear. Packed our guns, too, and it ironically took us longer to clear out our weapons stash than our wardrobe and bathroom combined. </p><p> </p><p>“Got everythin’?” I asked, and checked over our pile by the door. A duffle bag each of stuff, another backpack, and my crossbody bag I carried everywhere - except now it was stuffed to the brim with my things. Plus Johnny grabbed our jackets off the hook by the door, hauled Daisy’s bed and bowls and some of her food with it. We really did look like we were fucking fleeing, and it only hit me looking at it how quickly we were ready to run. I hated how used to just upping and leaving we were. Our next home would be secure, safe; somewhere no fuckers could touch us. Top level security. I was gonna start saving every goddamn eddie to afford that safety. </p><p> </p><p>“You sure about this?” Johnny asked - as if we had any choice. As if he’d wait until <em> now </em> and then just be cool with putting everything back if I suddenly changed my mind. </p><p> </p><p>I nodded. “It’s not safe anymore, Johnny. If one person got in, if they know where we live, others will too. What if we come home one day and Daisy’s gone, or… Or dead? Or if I think it’s safe to leave you here and you’re not here when I come back?”</p><p> </p><p>“Bold to assume I’d ever let you go out without me.” he said with a little smirk, and I rolled my eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Point is, we gotta go. And I fuckin’ hate it, but we do.”</p><p> </p><p>He scratched at the back of his head, and reached for his holo left on the kitchen counter. “I could call Ker, ask if he’d be cool with us crashin’ at his place for a while ‘til we find somewhere else.”</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t a <em> terrible </em> idea, so long as Kerry didn’t mind. His house was out of the way, sure, and would be bitch of a drive back into the city during rush hour, but it was safe and secure. Fancy locked gates and security I knew from experience was a pain in the ass to crack. Not to mention his army of murder bots.</p><p> </p><p>“If he’d be cool with that.” I said, nodding.</p><p> </p><p>“‘Course he would. He wants to meet Daisy anyway - don’t think he’ll care so long as we’re quiet.” </p><p> </p><p>I ignored his dumb fucking wink after that, and attached Daisy’s leash to her collar. I made sure the cameras were tucked away in my bag - I’d need them later - and began collecting some of our junk to carry downstairs. Johnny took the rest, and with a sigh, I bundled our pup up into my arms. The apartment looked like we were only going out for the day, minus Daisy’s bed and toys. Bed messy and unmade, plants watered, some dishes left on the drying rack. </p><p> </p><p>With one last look over the apartment, we headed out for the last time. Goddamn, I was gonna miss that little place.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm planning on writing a lil smut segment for that bit when they get back to the apartment, so keep an eye out for any potential updates to the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28937679/chapters/71002134">spicy chapters</a>!</p><p>Also, I was finally able to make use of a little fake screenshot scenario I made a while ago for V and Johnny in this chapter, when he comes out onto the balcony and scares the shit outta her! You can see it <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/post/639973276668575744/sometimes-you-just-gotta-make-super-self-indulgent">here</a>. I actually didn't mean to make it fit here, I had no intention of actually using it in the fic! But it worked out so yay!</p><p>While you're over at my tumblr, scream with me about the ability to swap Alt out with my V because I have not been able to stop screaming about it since I got it working this afternoon. <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/post/644021525966618624">Look.</a> (yes that is the V in this fic!)</p><p>Anyway, idk if my usual tumblr plug is needed because of those links but HAVE IT ANYWAY! I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr! Come and hang out with me in the <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Cyberpunks discord server</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. One Question</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*coughs* *fluff comes out*</p><p>Yeah so this chapter is a lot of domestic fluff. Felt like I needed it, V and Johnny needed it, and y'all needed it. There is some angst? But it pays off, so it's okay. Borders a TINY bit on the suggestive side towards the end, but there isn't any actual smut! </p><p>Also, y'all wanna see some Johnny rocking out with Samurai? I know you do, and I have it <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/post/644232748184354816">here</a> on my tumblr. Me and a friend from the Cyberpunks discord have been going feral with mods lately. There's also <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/post/644232597665447936/samurai-minus-henry">this</a> of more Samurai. Thank you and goodnight, I made God's work a reality with these shots. </p><p>ANYWAY ENOUGH PLUGGING! Enjoy the chapter &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>MAY 08th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p><b>NIGHT CITY / Westbrook, North Oak</b> <b>… 08:54PM</b></p><p> </p><p>With a little sigh, I peeked around the edge of the curtain; still, no goddamn change. I wasn't really sure what I'd been expecting. Hopeful, I guess, that I wouldn't see the fucking swarm of media outside Kerry's gates. </p><p> </p><p>"Do you think they'll get the fuckin' hint soon?" I asked, and Johnny snorted. I let the curtain fall back closed again and joined him at the dining table, where he was sitting staring at a screamsheet. Wasn't sure how he was stuck reading that instead of looking at this view of Night City. It was fucking preem, looked amazing in the dark, all flashy neons and bright colours shooting into the rainy sky. Skyscrapers all lit up, cutting up and jutting across the dark horizon like man-made teeth. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck, I sounded like Johnny. Poet at heart. </p><p> </p><p>"Nah, they're not goin' anywhere." he promised, and when I groaned, he tore his eyes off his paper for a second to shoot me a smirk. "Why? You don't wanna stay here in Villa de Eurodyne?" </p><p> </p><p>My face crinkled up in disgust. "First of all, it'd be Villa D'Eurodyne, one word. Fuckin' language scrub. Second, no - I'd rather get back to my life, thanks." </p><p> </p><p>"Life bein'... Runnin' errands for other people? Gettin' paid for doin' shit they don't wanna do? Havin' nowhere to go home to?" Johnny turned back to his screamsheet, and leaned back in his chair. His bowl was long since empty but I just pushed my noodles around it aimlessly, not sure if I was hungry or not. "Ker's doin' us a huge favour here, V."</p><p> </p><p>"I know! I'm not tryna sound ungrateful, I just… Fuck, I hate bein' on house arrest." </p><p> </p><p>"Me and you both. But until Ker gets Samurai's PR under wraps, can you just grin and bear it for me? There are worse places we coulda been stuck for a few days." </p><p> </p><p>I sighed. Not quite the smile he'd asked for but I didn't feel up to quite baring my teeth unless it was a scowl. We'd only been here a day or two and I felt like I was going insane. Kerry had been kind enough to let us stay when we told him the situation, that our own goddamn home wasn't safe anymore. He'd let us have this huge house's only guest room - waste of space, much? - and panicked nonstop about it being unfit for a puppy. Me too, really. The mess got old <em> real </em>fast when Daisy ran up to me with what she thought was a chew toy. It was not. It was not a fucking chew toy. </p><p> </p><p>So I'd undertaken the task of tidying Kerry's place. Johnny had teased me, saying I looked too much like a domestic housewife - he'd apologised for it real fast when I smacked him with a paddle I found laying on the stairs of all places. Kerry wasn't in most of the day, out and about tryna set Samurai's story straight, and when he came back it was as if he walked into the wrong couple million eurodollar mansion. He kinda awkwardly thanked me in front of Johnny, but I knew deep down it prolly felt like a weight off his chest. I knew what it was like - my apartment became a depressing shit hole when things went south with that biochip. I hated going back because it felt like I'd drown, but I couldn't face the task of making it comfortable and homely again. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny had also, fucking <em> finally </em> , offered to show me a thing or two about one of his talents - playing guitar. Now as far as rock legends went, Johnny was a fucking god, so I had high expectations for what I'd learn, as well as very, very, <em> very </em>low standards for the level of teaching I figured he was gonna spit out of his ass. I figured he'd be impatient, get pissed off real fast every time I mucked up. Maybe he'd find my failures as an amateur funny, poke fun at me. </p><p> </p><p>But I was fucking <em> wrong </em>. Somehow, all my expectations were completely rocked the first time I sat down with him, his guitar in my lap. He had one too, borrowed from Kerry's wall of axs; taught me some basic chords, how to hold my fingers to hit the notes, the difference in the sounds you could make between plucking and strumming the strings. Showed off a fair bit too, but I didn't mind because admittedly, it wowed me more than annoyed me. And, most shockingly of all? He'd only laughed when I complained about my fingers hurting. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah," he'd chuckled, and reached across to correct the posture of my right hand on the neck, "Heard it's a bitch. They'll get calloused and you'll be fine. Eventually." </p><p> </p><p>"You never had 'em?" </p><p> </p><p>Shook his head. "Nah, only started playin' after I got the Hand. But if you're so concerned about your lil fingies, why are you even playin' this way round? Won't have to worry about it if you just play normally." </p><p> </p><p>I stared deadpan at him. "Johnny, I'm left handed." </p><p> </p><p><em> That </em>was a fun fact about me he'd just, until that point, apparently never even noticed. Somehow, not even after spending months in my body with me, he just… Never picked up on the fact that unlike him, my left hand dominated. I didn't know how much it mattered for guitar, not really, but I figured it flipped just the same as everything else. And it wasn't all that hard, either. </p><p> </p><p>So we had to start all over - his big brain couldn't figure out quite <em> why </em> everything I played sounded a bit off. In the end he said fuck it to my left-handed- <em> ness </em> and forced me to play like him because, "Think I know how the fuck you're meant to make the right notes upside down? Bitch I'm not that good." </p><p> </p><p>Kerry had gotten home to Johnny giving me a private concert and abruptly decided he wanted nothing to do with it. "His <em>private</em> <em>concerts</em> lead to somethin' else, if you know what I mean." he said with a wink, and disappeared to his bedroom. Once upon a time I think Kerry woulda leapt at the chance to jump Johnny's bones but as it was, with the way Johnny was looking at <em>me</em>, I didn't think it'd be fair if Ker joined in. </p><p> </p><p>So, <em> yeah </em> . In short, the private concert had an encore that was surprisingly more on the silent side than it might've appeared. Didn't wanna disturb our host, so we kept the volume down. I'd seen those hands of his finger expertly up and down the neck of a guitar and pluck strings like a master not ten minutes before. <em> Felt </em> them finger something else. Plucked a different kinda string. </p><p> </p><p>And when I'd woken up to take advantage of Kerry's preem kitchen, I'd found him chugging coffee at the speed of light. Was polite enough, asked me if I'd slept well, danced around bringing up Johnny. Poor guy, this situation probably fucked with his head far more than he wanted it to. Then he'd headed out into the city to try to organise this explosion of shit that had gone down after the concert. Henry was still in the care of Kerry's doctor, and he was yet to be conscious long enough to hold a conversation. River and Bes were still working on things, but he'd find some excuse to text me every few hours to check in - though sometimes it felt more like a check <em> up </em>on me.</p><p> </p><p>I was fine, really - felt a lot better here than I had in ages. Maybe I'd felt like something was off for a long time back at our place, never felt quite safe. But here, in luxury and safety, I felt better. Good, even. Woke up and straddled Johnny's hips on the regular for a good morning fuck in that giant bed, with a gorgeous view of NC behind us. Felt comfort for the first time in… Ever? Johnny seemed to notice I was doing better too, far more perceptive than I would give him credit for. He'd entertain my stupidity and dance around the kitchen with me to pop songs on the radio; would sing with me in the shower, laugh at me when I fell off pitch or out of tune; play with my hair when I was nodding off in his arms. He was comfortable here too, which was why I was <em> absolutely </em>intending to get us a little slice of this luxury for ourselves. Prolly some big fancy apartment in the city overlooking all the shit we'd overcome to get there. Have a pool and a hot tub, a freezer that stored real goddamn food - the expensive kind, none of that synthetic shit - a fancy bathtub and a shower so big you could spin and not hit anything. Had to be perfect for Daisy too, maybe for the second fur-baby Johnny was hinting he wanted. </p><p> </p><p>So in short - I couldn't really find it in me to give a flying fuck about what was going down in the city. Didn't give a damn about Rogue, Torres, and their new buddy Frank who'd tried to pull a fast one on me. Didn't care about her little revolution, the new corpo-war she was tryna inspire. Felt terrible about it, but couldn't find myself caring really about the Henry situation, neither, and that was bad; it went deeper than a bit of bad coke, my gut told me so. So why was I okay with being so calm about it? </p><p> </p><p>Johnny put his screamsheet down on the table and looked at me. Suddenly I lost all interest in even trying to eat and remembered exactly <em> why </em>I was so calm about everything. Because as we both scrambled to get up and make use of the little time we had before Kerry got back, I realised I didn't have any fucks to give to anyone but Johnny. </p><p> </p><p>And a fuck I gave him. </p><p> </p><p>We probably should've gotten up and put our clothes back on. But even Kerry's fucking <em> floor </em> was comfortable enough to just lie there on, with a view of Night City to enjoy. I hummed along to the soft, muted sound of the radio playing in another room - upstairs maybe? - and played with Johnny's hair. My head was mostly, for once, contentedly empty. So the only thing I found myself thinking about was needing to redye my own hair soon; my dark roots were coming through and I wasn't sure if I was ready to go back brunette again. </p><p> </p><p>"V?" </p><p> </p><p>I hummed at Johnny, sitting up on my elbow to look at him. He lazily rolled his head to the side to return my gaze, and lifted an arm to settle it around my back. Pulled me even closer til I was flush against his side. </p><p> </p><p>"What's up?" I asked, tilting my head, "You only get handsy when you're thinkin' 'bout somethin' deep." </p><p> </p><p>"Is that right?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. I think you just like havin' someone close as reassurance you're not just an engram in my brain tryna kill me. Imagine how wild that would be." </p><p> </p><p>His lips twitched. He'd trimmed back the wild growth of his beard when we'd come to Kerry's, so now it was back to a nice short length that'd tickle my skin. I ran my finger along his jaw, and he sighed, dropped his head back to the floor, stared at the high ceiling. He <em> was </em>thinking about something, and hard too. </p><p> </p><p>"Seriously," I said, "What's on your mind?" </p><p> </p><p>"Why'd you change your name?" he asked suddenly - <em> not </em>the question I expected, really. Furrowing my brow, I sat up, and gazed out the window to watch a transport truck fly through a distant beam of neon green light erupting from some building downtown. </p><p> </p><p>"I didn't. Not legally - it's still Vivian Frazier on my ID, medical records 'n shit." </p><p> </p><p>"Why'd you make everyone start callin' you V, Vivian?" </p><p> </p><p>"Why'd you make everyone start callin' you Johnny Silverhand, Robert?" </p><p> </p><p>It was subtle, but he flinched at the name. <em> Just </em> like I used to when Vik first called me by <em> my </em>name every time I popped into his clinic - I think Jackie musta gave him a heads up when I wasn't around because eventually, Vivian became V, and no one knew what my real name was. Evidently though, if Torres could find it out, it meant it was still floating around. </p><p> </p><p>I sighed, and shrugged. "I was born Vivian Frazier. Mom and Dad called me Vivi, Viv, <em> Ian </em> sometimes when Dad wanted to piss me off. I used to get so mad - <em> that's a guys name </em>! I'd stomp my feet and he'd just laugh harder." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny's fingers were tracing a little pattern on the small of my back. I didn't recognise it, if he was trying to recreate anything. Wasn't writing letters or drawing shapes. I only realised after a hot minute of the silence I'd fallen into that he was trying to reassure me the same way he'd reassured himself - with touch. </p><p> </p><p>So it just came pouring out, then. </p><p> </p><p>"After what happened with my parents, I couldn't… I-I don't know, it felt like Vivian went with them. Y'know? Like Vivian didn't belong on the streets, it wasn't her game. She was an innocent little girl who wore pink dresses and thought daisies were a reason to exist." I rubbed at my face, let out a little sigh, "I didn't wanna be her anymore. Felt like I'd ruin the memory of a good family - while it lasted, anyway. So I became V instead. Was easier to pretend Vivi died with her family that day." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny wet his lips and turned his head to stare out of the window too. I didn't expect him to say anything. Didn't really want him to, either. No one I'd ever told that story really knew <em> what </em>to say in response but Misty. Misty had told me it was my own way of dealing with the trauma I'd been through - I tucked away all my pain and suffering into a past version of myself, into Vivian, and set her back on a shelf. Forgot about her and became someone new, someone who didn't have to deal with her demons, who could forget the pain she'd been through to get where she was now. </p><p> </p><p>And I figured it was much the same for him. I didn't actually know all the details of his life before Samurai, I just vaguely knew what I'd pieced together. The little bits of his past I'd managed to see before he realised what I was doing, blocked me out, forced me back. Like he was afraid of someone knowing who he was before Johnny Silverhand. Ashamed, maybe. </p><p> </p><p>"What about you?" I asked, curious. I'd never directly asked because I just… Expected the same outcome as when we shared headspace. Figured he'd refuse to share, wave me off. "You ever gonna tell me about that?" </p><p> </p><p>He blinked - once, twice, slowly. When a short silence overtook us both, I realised that his answer was a plain and obvious <em> no </em>. He wasn't gonna tell me what trauma made Robert Linder into Johnny Silverhand. Would he keep that a secret forever? Take that to the grave? </p><p> </p><p>"I enlisted in the military when I was a fuckin' kid." he blurted suddenly, and I looked at him surprised. He sighed, put his arm over his face; hid his eyes away. He kept talking though, "I was… Fifteen? Sixteen? Didn't have no family, so had no reason not to. Central American Conflict started in the early 2000s and I was one of the poor fuckers sent to the front lines after only a few months of trainin'." </p><p> </p><p>"Jesus." I knew that war was fucked, but nothing in detail. Most of my knowledge came second-hand only from his hatred, his warped perceptions. </p><p> </p><p>"Got my first kill on May 3rd 2005. Still remember it, couldn't stop shakin' for hours. Only got over it 'cause another guy in my squad had gone through the same thing a few months back." Johnny drew his arm away from his face for only a second - reached out for me, picked up one of his dog tags that hung around my neck. I barely ever took them off. "Carlos Romero - the guy that saved my life." </p><p> </p><p>I held out my hand; the dog tag fell back into my palm when he let it go, instead of against my chest. I'd studied them a few times in the past, curious as to why Johnny carried dog tags of someone else. I'd thought maybe once or twice that his real name had matched the one on the tags, but Johnny didn't exactly strike me as the Carlos type. <em> And </em>that theory had been washed away when Rogue and Torres helped reveal Johnny's real name all those months ago now. </p><p> </p><p>"He was a great guy. Somehow always smilin', pickin' us up. Even when that fuckhead Torres was barkin' his orders and preachin' how important our duty to our country was, Carlos kicked me in the ass and I kept goin'. </p><p> </p><p>"We were assigned a patrol one day. Carlos, me, Torres, a few other soldiers. No such thing as scanners back then - if there were, no one woulda died. We tripped-" Johnny stopped all of a sudden. Changed his mind. "<em> I </em> tripped a landmine. We were lucky as all hell because it wasn't a field - just a stray one that hadn't had the chance to detonate yet."</p><p> </p><p>"Carlos saved you?" </p><p> </p><p>He nodded. "Shielded me with his body. Was only eighteen, too. Same thing that killed my friend was the same thing that took my arm. Can't remember much else - shock? Pain? Don't know. Next thing I remember is a few days later when Torres was tryna give me a pep talk."</p><p> </p><p>"Johnny…" </p><p> </p><p>Fuck, now I was in his shoes. I didn't know where to even begin, what to say. God, that was so <em> fucked </em>, holy shit. They were just kids! It wasn't really a wonder he kept this to himself, really. It wasn't a wonder why he kept any of it to himself - only shared his fucking rage with the world. </p><p> </p><p>"Was pretty obvious to everyone involved that the war was fucked. Government pushin' for shit they shouldn't take, as always. Sending out thousands of their soldiers as cannon fodder every single fuckin' day, losing more than we had. Couldn't take it much longer after what happened to Carlos - I ran. Me and a few other guys, deserted. Back then propaganda was pushed out left, right 'n centre to make deserters an even worse enemy than the ones we were gunnin' down. So yeah, I changed my name. Started takin' merc jobs to pay some corrupt official to legally document the change so I could try to forget it all."</p><p> </p><p>He fell silent, and we just stared out of the window for a little while. Watched the blaring lights of Night City and the life it pulsed out into the wasteland around it; the dark clouds above were opening up again. A shower of rain started falling, obscuring the view. Silently we just agreed to get dressed and look presentable for when Kerry got back, but I found myself lost up in my head while we did. How many people had he told that story? How many people did he trust to know? When I was dressed again, I wandered up close to the window and found myself toying with the dog tags around my neck. Would Carlos Romero be proud of his decision to save Johnny's life? Would he be happy with the shit Johnny had done? Would he have sacrificed himself all over again if he knew who young Robert would become? </p><p> </p><p>"So, no surname?" Johnny asked suddenly, and I blinked at him. </p><p> </p><p>"What?" </p><p> </p><p>"You're just V. You don't go by a surname?" </p><p> </p><p>I frowned, and shook my head. "Never needed one. V was always enough." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny just nodded, and joined me at the window. Put his hands in his pockets and stared out at the city with me, silent but content with it. I was fully expecting him to make some joke to ruin the blissful quiet, say something lewd or dumb to make me laugh and probably punch him. </p><p> </p><p>Instead, he said:</p><p> </p><p>"How's V Silverhand sound?"</p><p> </p><p>He didn't get a laugh or a punch in response. I could barely fucking think straight over the pounding pulse of my heart in my ears. What the <em> fuck </em> did he just say? What the fuck? What the fuck? <em> What the fuck?  </em></p><p> </p><p>Johnny didn't look at me. But his fucking lips twitched. I folded my arms over my chest, because I hated how my hands looked shaky. He didn't push me, neither; stayed silent while my brain caught up. I had to be asleep or some shit - or he was playing with me waiting until I said something so he could laugh. There was only one way what he said could be taken, right? Only one way. One fucking way that… Honestly <em> terrified </em> me. Because one, in what world would <em> Johnny Silverhand </em>ask someone to marry them? And two, holy fuck; stupid, dumb, domestic terms like marriage, wife, husband… None of it fit in my life. Didn't fit in his, either. I never wanted to get married. </p><p> </p><p>I didn't want what we had to change.   </p><p> </p><p>"You…" I began, and realised how fucking frail my voice sounded. I cleared my throat and turned to look at him. "You're serious?" </p><p> </p><p>Johnny turned, leaned a shoulder on the glass, cocked his head at me. Like he'd just expected a yes straight outta the box. "Why not?" he asked, and my brows leapt upward. </p><p> </p><p><em> Why not </em>? That, combined with his stance, his laid back attitude, the causal look on his face - fuck, it made it look as if he just… Didn't give a shit. Like this wasn't some big deal, like he didn't care that this was supposed to be important. </p><p> </p><p>"You haven't thought this through." I accused, and he opened his mouth but I cut him off. "Johnny, this is… I don't know if they taught you shit in rockerboy school, but this shit isn't a joke. It's big, it's important, it changes your whole fuckin' world. And your mood, it shifts like the goddamn weather. What if…" I wet my lips. Why did thinking of this feel like a goddamn punch in the gut? But I said it anyway, "What if in a few months, a year or two, you get bored of me?" </p><p> </p><p>Again, he went to speak but I wasn't finished. I was running on a thought that I needed to get out, first. </p><p> </p><p>"I mean, you're still in the body of a what, thirty somethin'? You could go off and do whatever the fuck you wanted. Maybe you just wake up and decide you wanna travel the world and fuck every girl you see - can't do that if you're married." </p><p> </p><p><em> Fuck. </em>Fuck I hated that word. I hated it so much because it reminded me of the only two people I'd given a shit about in my life that I knew had been married - my parents. And we'd already been over how fucked that was. They'd ended up fucking killing each other, literally. </p><p> </p><p>But for some reason, the idea of marrying someone? It, bizarrely, hurt less. I didn't feel so angry, so furious at the concept. My gut twisted up at the thought, and I wasn't sure if I liked it or not. I looked up at Johnny and realised why - I wouldn't mind marrying someone if he was like him. Sure, we argued and had bad days, but we were happy. When the world wasn't trying to fuck us in the ass, anyway. He looked out for me, and I took care of him. He was like a perfect match for my insane libido, knew what he was doing, and that was far more than I could say for a lotta guys I'd slept with. </p><p> </p><p>Yet this was deeper than just sex. It was more important. That much was evident based on the fact Johnny and I built our relationship when we weren't allowed to fucking <em> touch </em> . We became friends because of our fucked-up circumstance, because of the way we were forced to cooperate. Even when he was slowly killing me, I found myself caring about him in a unique way I'd never felt about anyone. Not Misty, not Vik - not Jackie. And that was saying something considering Jackie had been the first person in NC to <em> really </em>earn my trust, and my respect. </p><p> </p><p>When we got his body back, we'd taken advantage of the simple, instinctive gift we'd been given. Neither of us could say we hadn't wanted to, because the amount of times we'd tried, to break down the fucking barrier just to <em> feel </em>each other when he was trapped in that engram was too many to count. And somehow it had gotten out of hand so fast - it wasn't just a fuck anymore. I noticed for the first time when we'd taken a bit of a risk on the road, and dared to leave our motel room to pay a visit to the bar downstairs. We'd had a drink, unwinded a little, and he'd started touching me in ways he never had. When he had, it had been to hold me down, or pull me closer, or make me feel good. But he just put his arm around my waist, settled his fingers on my hip, pulled me so close I could've sat on his lap. And honestly, that had been the first time I'd had a drink in a bar and no one tried to bother me. After that it was just a downward spiral of little touches, signs of affection that I'd never thought him capable of. Lighting my smoke for me, brushing back my hair. Rubbing my shoulders after a long day. Holding me tight, all night long. </p><p> </p><p>Sure, I'd fallen in love with him. I'd admit that. </p><p> </p><p>But what we had was <em> good </em>. I liked it, even if things had been shaken up a bit recently. Even if our little home, our sanctuary, had been taken from us. Even if things were fucked, and maybe another war was on its way, and one way or another our world was gonna be turned upside down again. </p><p> </p><p>So why should we disrupt it before its time? </p><p> </p><p>"I… I don't know, Johnny." I murmured, and couldn't look at him. Didn't even wanna look at the view - just stared down at my feet and hid my face behind my hair. </p><p> </p><p>"You said I haven't thought about it." he said suddenly, and he sounded snappy. He had every right to be - no one liked rejection. And for something this important? I didn't know how much value he put into this but for me, it'd sting. Even with my warped perceptions of marriage. </p><p> </p><p>When he didn't follow up, I realised he was waiting for me to say it again. To double down, to take it a step further. He wanted a fight, he wanted to be angry with me. But <em> I </em>didn't - so I didn't rise to take the bait. I instead kept my voice low, soft. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, this sorta thing is meant to be planned? Thought out, considered. Johnny, you don't even have a fuckin' ring; if <em> anyone </em>was gonna propose to me I'd want a goddamn ring." </p><p> </p><p>"It was spontaneous. Is that not considered romantic?" </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny…" I sighed, exasperated. </p><p> </p><p>"Don't <em> Johnny </em>me. You think I just whipped this outta my ass just now?" there it was - his voice was raising, tone harsher, sharper. "Look at me, V. Fuckin' look at me." </p><p> </p><p>I let out a breath and lifted my head. I didn't say anything; just met his gaze, all frustrated and furious, and held my ground. </p><p> </p><p>"You wanna know how long I've been thinkin' about this?" he asked, and he didn't even wait for a yes or a nod. "V, this has been a dumb fuckin' thought in my head since we got back to NC. Since that first night we saw Rogue again. I thought I'd feel weird about it; thought I'd think I still wanted her, that being with you would complicate things. You know what it did?"</p><p> </p><p>"What?" </p><p> </p><p>"It made things fuckin' <em> crystal </em> clear. I didn't want Rogue - <em> don't </em>want Rogue. I told you, didn't I? That I like what we've got goin'? </p><p> </p><p>"That doesn't mean-" I huffed, and took a deep breath. Realised I didn't like the way my own tone was shifting, rising to meet his. I didn't want to argue. "That doesn't mean we have to get married. Why the fuck do you even want that? Isn't havin' a wife and settlin' down the <em> exact </em>sort of conformity you rebel against?" </p><p> </p><p>"Don't make this something it isn't, V. This isn't about conformity-" </p><p> </p><p>"What, then?" I snapped, "Because everythin' in your life has been about that. <em> For </em>that rebellion. Why would you change that now?"</p><p> </p><p>"Because I want you, V." </p><p> </p><p>Fuck. <em> Fuck </em>. My hands balled into tight fists under my arms, what little remaining nails I had biting into my palms. I'd heard that line before - along with the good old, "I need you, V." But it had always been panted in my ear just seconds before we tore each other's clothes off. Johnny had never said it like this before. Sincere, meaningful. Passionate all the same because he was still angry; still ready to barrel off into a full-blown row at any second. </p><p> </p><p>I was saved by the bell - the bell in this case being the crashing sound of the front door flying open. Kerry came in, shaking off droplets of rain off his coat, and with one final, uncertain look at, Johnny, I went to go help him with his stuff. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, V." he said as I took his rucksack off his arm. Really, I should've thanked him for the chance to escape that conversation. Thankfully, Kerry didn't try to read the room too deeply, and barrelled straight for the bar. "Come on, we're celebratin' a win tonight!" he exclaimed, and after shrugging off his coat and tossing aside the bag I had, he threw an arm around me, took me with him. </p><p> </p><p>"Celebratin' what?" I asked, and he grinned at me as he let me go. Looped around the bar and as he started plucking out glasses, Johnny sulked his way over. Settled on a barstool beside me - pointedly refusing to look at me. </p><p> </p><p>"A successful launch of Samurai 2.0, obviously!" Kerry said, and poured three shot glasses filled by tequila - one of Johnny's favourites. Recognised the bottle. </p><p> </p><p>"Henry fuckin' collapsed, Kerry." Johnny grumbled, but reached for his glass anyway. "How is this a successful launch?" </p><p> </p><p>"Thought you'd be happy about this." </p><p> </p><p>"Well I'm not." and he knocked back the shot before we even had the chance to pick up ours. "I'm goin' to bed." </p><p> </p><p>"W-Wait, Johnny, you haven't even heard the news!" </p><p> </p><p>He didn't even offer a response. He just got up and stalked away, mopey. Didn't look back once. With an uneasy sigh - and horribly, something like guilt twisting in my gut - I turned back to Kerry and raised my glass. </p><p> </p><p>"To Samurai." I offered, and with a huff, he nodded, raised his glass too. </p><p> </p><p>"To me, who's apparently carryin' all the fuckin' weight in this band." he added, and our glasses clinked. He knocked back his shot and slammed it on the bar. "Nancy was supposed to help me out with all this shit. But she's off playin' detective with some ex-cop or somethin'?" </p><p> </p><p>And <em> there </em>was the guilt again. I swallowed down the kick or tequila in my throat, and tried to ignore it. </p><p> </p><p>"So, how's things out there?" I asked, "Aside from the horde of media on the front lawn?" </p><p> </p><p>Kerry snorted. "They <em> wish </em> they could get on the front lawn. Medias are good, but they're no mercs like you, V - can't crack the security. Plus they'd get shot on sight, so there's that." he added hastily with an evil little grin. Then, he shrugged, and looked out the window that was splattered with rain. "There's no shortage of labels scramblin' to sign us. We need a manager ASAP, gettin' real tired of havin' to refuse to answer questions. Plus, then there's the Henry shit-show, gonna need him back on his feet if we're gonna do this, need him clean. Nancy's off doin' her thing, still wants to be a reporter, don't know how much good it'll do <em> that </em>career if she's on the inside of a group on the scene. And Denny's still clingin' to Mastermind, dunno if she really wants to commit to Samurai again, 'specially with Henry."</p><p> </p><p>I couldn't help the frown. "Uh, no offence, Kerry, but <em> none </em>of what you just said sounds like a success. That just sounds like a long list of shitty problems." </p><p> </p><p>"Nope. No, not at all. I don't got <em> any </em> problems, none whatsoever." the sarcasm wouldn't have been drilled home if he would've stopped at simply <em> nope </em>. He sighed, and shrugged. "We're all doin' this for Johnny. We wanted him back, we got him back, and even though we have our own goddamn lives now, we're relivin' the glory days. Just feels like he could care more, y'know?" </p><p> </p><p>Fuck. Again with the guilt. Johnny wanted Samurai, Kerry wanted Samurai. Nancy, Denny and Henry were putting their lives on pause, maybe shifting tracks altogether <em> again </em> just for the sake of Samurai. And then there was me - the puzzle piece that didn't fit because the puzzle had been made in the early 2000s before I was tossed on the board. It wasn't a terrible thing that, even if he didn't realise it, Johnny was moving on from his desperate desire to live in the past. A past that didn't exist in the present day because people had moved on without him. But if people were willing to move <em> back </em>onto a path with him, for him, was it really my place to be in the way? To be the distraction, to take his energies away from what I knew he wanted, deep down? </p><p> </p><p>Maybe Johnny had the right idea by going to bed. Not twenty minutes ago I'd been wondering how our lives would change if I married him. Now I was wondering whether I should step out of it entirely. </p><p> </p><p>Kerry and I had a few more drinks. He updated me on the situation, on his day; the hectic schedule he'd set for meetings with various label representatives including his own. The one that published the music of his solo career. He'd butted heads with his manager a lot, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to stick with them, or move on with Samurai. </p><p> </p><p>"Don't wanna commit, y'know?" he said, "What if Johnny gets bored in a few months? He just decides he's out and leaves us all hangin'?" </p><p> </p><p>Ooh, fuck. That one hit a bit too close to home, felt too real to be comfortable. I'd asked myself the same goddamn questions about other things - at least it wasn't just me that recognised Johnny's flightiness. His impressive ability to be so impulsively passionate, throw himself at something, and then back pedal. Always teetering on that edge of too much, too little. You'd think that was a long stretch, with too much on one end and too little on the other. But for Johnny, it was a very, very fine fucking line that he toed with everything he did. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, uh," Kerry started, and rubbed at his neck, "Is Johnny good? Seemed in a bad mood before."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, no, it's…" I sighed, "We just had a little spat before, that's all. Nothin' to worry about." </p><p> </p><p>"You sure? Need me to go up there and have a talk man-to-man?" </p><p> </p><p>I snorted at his offer, and waved a hand at him. "Nah, really, we're good. Was gonna head up there and talk to him in a sec myself."</p><p> </p><p>Instantly, he swigged another shot so fast it almost looked painful. "Alright, gonna plug my ears." he said, shivering, "With you two, screaming either means you're beatin' the shit outta each other or you're <em> fuckin' </em>the brains outta each other."</p><p> </p><p>Wasn't sure if the latter was gonna be on the table tonight. It was rare in-fucking-deed that it was <em> me </em> that had pissed him off; it was usually always him that did something to anger me, and I had no goddamn self-restraint to stop myself from fucking him senseless when he made me mad. But on the very rare occasions <em> I'd </em>done something wrong, he was like a whole other person. Cold and short, dismissive. Didn't speak to me, would lie with his back to me all night. He'd eventually give me a chance to work my way back into his good graces after a day or two, and we'd move on after I apologised. He'd usually accept it. </p><p> </p><p>So I decided I'd bite the bullet and head upstairs. Checked the kitchen, first, and Daisy was sound asleep in her bed; it was a refreshing change of pace <em> not </em> to have the dog in the bedroom. Or the living room, or the kitchen, or the bathroom. Our apartment had been a glorified <em> room </em>with stuff in it. I'd cancelled the lease pretty much the second we arrived at Kerry's. Was a shame, adored that view on the balcony. But I swore the next one would have a better view, so it was alright, really. </p><p> </p><p>I said goodnight to Kerry and headed for the guest room. Nervously, I opened the door, cautious like I was expecting something to jump at me. But no; one of the lamps on the bedside were on, casting the room in a soft, warm glow. Being up here, so close to the roof, made the rain so much louder, but I liked it. A constant pitter patter above. Johnny wasn't asleep yet even as he said he was gonna be. Was busy with his back to me at the desk, but he certainly looked ready for sleep. Dressed down to nothing but a pair of sweatpants and I cursed myself for immediately soaking in the view of his broad back and the dip of his waist. His ass too, because of <em> course </em>I looked there. </p><p> </p><p>It was probably better not to try to start idle chit-chat. I headed for the ensuite, and sighed in the mirror. Washed my face, brushed my teeth, peed, the usual. Came back to the room and Johnny was hovering by the window, watching the rain. I trailed over to the couch near it where he'd taken off his clothes - we didn't wanna use the actual wardrobe, we just dumped our bags here - and peeled off mine. I glanced his way but he didn't even spare me a second-long look. Withholding my sigh, I reached for the t-shirt he'd abandoned, and pulled it over my head. It fell down to my thighs, slipped down over my shoulder before I fixed it. His clothes were so comfy, and best of all they smelled of him. I'd make a habit out of <em> not </em>wearing his clothes after a concert, though. Wasn't sure I'd like his smell so much if it was all sweat. </p><p> </p><p>I was gonna head straight for the bed, leave him to mope in silence. But before I could, he held out a hand and beckoned to me. Letting out a breath - was that relief? - I took his hand and went to him immediately. I was so desperate for him to <em> not </em>be mad with me that I'd practically sprint over if I had to. </p><p> </p><p>He guided me in between his body and the window. It was fucking freezing on my back, but I didn't mind, because he was kissing me. Fuck, this was something else; slow and heavy, hot and almost like goddamn torture. Teasing his tongue between my lips, squeezing my hip in his hand and pressing me against the glass. A short gasp broke out from me as his thigh slipped between mine, pressed a much-needed pressure between my legs. I tangled my fingers in his hair and sighed, enjoyed his soft groan a little too much as I ran my nails across his scalp. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe I was wrong. Maybe sex <em> was </em>on the table. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny drew away for a shirt minute to catch his breath. I smiled up at him lazily, but giddy. The way my body responded to the movement of his hands up my sides was unfair. The little giggle that left me as he drew his shirt up over my hips wasn't even intentional; nor was the moan I made when his fingers squeezed at my thighs. </p><p> </p><p>"Marry me." he breathed, and I faltered. Wait. Wait, <em> this </em>was what this was about? I pressed my hands against his chest and he stopped, hands settling on my waist. </p><p> </p><p>"So what is this?" I asked, angry somehow. Like he'd tricked me. "You're gonna fuck me if I say yes? Gonna make me want it so bad I just agree to whatever?" </p><p> </p><p>Johnny shook his head. "That's not what I said." </p><p> </p><p>"I know what you said. I heard you loud and clear." </p><p> </p><p>"And?" </p><p> </p><p>I growled, and pushed him away. "Enough, Johnny. I'm goin' to sleep." </p><p> </p><p>He caught my wrist and drew me back. Pulled me so fast it made me a little dizzy; crushed me back against the window with his arms either side of me. </p><p> </p><p>"If you're gonna say no, give me on good fuckin' reason why." he snapped, "Just one." </p><p> </p><p>Somehow I found myself hesitating. I had reasons. Didn't I? I had valid explanations why. Like… Like it was unnecessary; we didn't need to get married to be happy. Or the fact it was ill-considered, impulsive like all of his big decisions. Or the fact that weddings were expensive and neither of us were the sort to be all hopelessly romantic and smitten, and have a bit dumb wedding. </p><p> </p><p>Not that I was afraid. Of the change, of what it would mean. That wasn't a good reason. </p><p> </p><p>"We… We don't need it." I decided on, finding my throat felt dry. "We're fine as we are." </p><p> </p><p>"That's what you're goin' with?" he asked, and I couldn't help but flinch a little from the look in his eye; like he could've easily smashed the glass behind me just to let out a tiny bit of the rage behind this eyes. </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny…" I sighed, and hesitantly, reached out for him. Wound my arms around his neck and came close, "Really, I'm happy the way we are. I thought you were too." </p><p> </p><p>"I am." </p><p> </p><p>"Then why are you pushin' so hard for this?" </p><p> </p><p>He huffed. "I don't know. Never wanted any of this shit. Told myself I never wanted a goddam wife, didn't want a family or any of that bullshit. Wasn't for me, didn't deserve it." abruptly he kissed me, and wrapped his arms around my waist. Hauled me to him, and caught me with expert ease when I jumped up to put my legs around his middle. He spun, finding the edge of the bed, sitting upon it. When he pulled away, he sighed. "I never wanted it," he said again, "But fuck if I'm gonna let this slip outta my fingers." </p><p> </p><p>Something clicked. And when the realisation sunk in, I wasn't sure if I was happy or hurt. </p><p> </p><p>"You're only askin' because of Rogue, aren't you?" I asked, and Johnny tensed up a bit under me. "Because she was good to you and you let her go. Alt was good to you and you let her go too."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not makin' the same mistake for a third time." he said, the most full of conviction I'd ever heard. "I haven't fucked this up, what we have. I don't plan on it. I want you, V, I want <em> this </em>. So why the fuck won't you just say yes?" </p><p> </p><p>I felt a whole clash of emotions and I didn't know which one I wanted to give priority. A lot of it was pride - I was proud that he'd learned, that he'd moved on from mistakes of his past. That he recognised what he'd done to Rogue, to Alt, to the good he'd built with them and how painfully he'd destroyed it. But another was sadness, that it had taken him those past mistakes to come to this point. Then came the guilt, that it took him trampling all over two good women before me - and countless others he'd hooked up with over the years and tossed aside - to come to this realisation. To face this lesson and see the importance in what he shared with another person. </p><p> </p><p>And then of course was the fear. That twisting feeling of facing the unknown, of having to change what was our norm just because of one silly little thing. In one way, marriage would be so huge - so important, so life-rocking. Everyone would know what we had, and I didn't know if I wanted the world to know about us. We were the world's worst-kept secret but it was private, it was <em> ours </em>. If I started going around with his name tagged on the end of mine, it was obvious. Then of course the thought that it was binding; it was so important that it was meant to last forever, and strangely, it frightened me more than the fucking tether between our minds. I knew we were together now because we had fallen into this stage of our lives, and we stuck together because it was easier than parting ways. But some part of me always thought it'd end; Johnny would finally find his feet in this new world and he'd leave me behind. No name V, trapped in a cycle in the hell hole that was Night City. Forever desperate to rise above the clouds. </p><p> </p><p>Ironically, on the other hand, marriage would do so little to change us. We'd still wake up in the same bed, work up a sweat in our sheets and start our morning with sex. Share a shower and sing songs shittily into the showerhead. Have breakfast and watch the daily morning news, promise our fur baby a walk later and head out to find work. Beat up some gonks together, work well as a duo, make a whole heap of eddies and go home to our safety, our sanctuary. Lose ourselves in those sheets and then find each other, and remember why the fuck we did what we did every day. Just so we could wake up the next morning and do it all over together. </p><p> </p><p>I twisted my fingers in Johnny's hair as he nuzzled his face against my throat. He placed a dozen kisses against my skin and for every single one, asked me a question. It was the same question, over and over. Didn't even sound like one for how he said it - like it was an offer. A proposition, a suggestion. </p><p> </p><p>"Marry me." </p><p> </p><p>I didn't wanna get married. I didn't wanna end up like my parents. I didn't wanna throw every ounce of my being into the hands of another person. I didn't want to marry anyone, ever. Until now. </p><p> </p><p>"Fine." I murmured, and abruptly he stopped. He drew back and looked at me, blinked once or twice. The first time he'd looked at me genuinely surprised in a long time. My lips twitched. "What? Were you expecting somethin' else?" </p><p> </p><p>"I don't know…" Johnny admitted, leaned back a little bit. His hands settled over my thighs either side of him, and he stared down at them instead of me. "Was expectin' you to fight it more, maybe. Or even to say it any nicer than just <em> fine </em>."</p><p> </p><p>I couldn't help the grin that grew on my lips. I shoved at his shoulders, and he fell down against the mattress. To my relief, finally his surprise fell away - and he smiled in return. A dumb-looking wide smile, like a happy little puppy. I brushed the loose strands of his hair back out of his face, and kissed him. He was still smiling when I drew away. </p><p> </p><p>I cleared my throat. "Okay," I said, "How's this? Yes, I'll marry you, Johnny Silverhand." </p><p> </p><p>"Nah," he decided with a teasing wriggle of his brows, "I prefer how you said it the first time. You're too much of a street rat to say it that nicely." </p><p> </p><p>A snort escaped me. "Heywood born 'n raised, baby." </p><p> </p><p>Johnny hummed thoughtfully. His hands squeezed at my thighs, and all of a sudden, my mind was abruptly down in the goddamn gutter. <em> But </em>I knew for a fact his was too. </p><p> </p><p>"Do you think Kerry'll mind if I make you scream my name?" </p><p> </p><p><em>Fuck</em>. That did things to me that should've been illegal. But that was before he'd even started kissing me, goddamn it. I was so whipped for him it should've been embarrassing. </p><p> </p><p>But I couldn't find myself caring. Not one little bit. For once, in this fucked up life in this fucked up city, I was happy. <em> We </em>were happy. And something was gonna come along to try to ruin that, I knew. But we'd be fucking ready. </p><p> </p><p>Night City would have to kill me first before I let it take him. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr! Come and hang out with me in the <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Cyberpunks discord server</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Silverhand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here we are, everyone. If you missed the announcement on my <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>, this is actually the final chapter of the Rebel Path. But don't fret! Work on the DIRECT SEQUEL begins now! I decided here was a nice place to wrap up this part of V and Johnny's story, and I wanna thank all of you for giving this fic so much love and support. Seriously, you guys are amazing and I love you all. When the first chapter of the sequel is up, I'll be sharing it here on Ao3, so if you'd like to be notified when it's up, please consider subscribing to my Ao3, or my <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122395">Cyberpunk 2078</a> series. I will be updating this fic here too with an announcement, and on tumblr as well. </p><p>I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I hope you're as excited as I am for the sequel! Expect plenty more of domestic V and Johnny, as well as more of the usual shit NC throws their way!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>MAY 09th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p><b>NIGHT CITY / Westbrook, North Oak</b> <b>… 10:03AM</b></p><p> </p><p>Waking up to an empty bed after last night's fiasco was not something I really expected. As Johnny had dozed off, mid-sentence sleepy-babbling, I'd formulated a little plan in my head; I'd sneak out of bed, and he, heavy sleeper that he was, wouldn't even notice. I'd go downstairs, make use of Kerry's kitchen and fridge of <em> real </em> food and whip us up breakfast. Surprise him with it. Do all that cheesy romantic gesture bullshit - I figured he kinda deserved it considering just what I'd agreed to last night. </p><p> </p><p>But nope. When I rolled over onto my back to reach out for him, my hand hit a cold mattress. He'd been gone a little while, then. Unable to shake off a disappointed sorta weight in my stomach, I sat upright, clutched at the still-warm blankets. He <em> never </em>woke up before me, so what gives? I listened closely but heard no noise throughout the house, and with how tall and echo-y the space was designed, you'd imagine it'd be easy to hear sounds from downstairs. Sighing, I reached for my holo abandoned on the bedside table next to my iron. Still loaded, too. </p><p> </p><p>The call rang a few times before he picked up. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Heya, sweet thing </em>." came his casual greeting. Why the fuck was he dressed in the visual overlay? </p><p> </p><p>"Where are you?" I asked suspiciously, and he shrugged. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Out. Had some biz to take care of </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh." </p><p> </p><p>Musta been more obvious than I'd meant to be with my tone - he frowned and asked, "<em> What? </em>" </p><p> </p><p>"Nuthin'. I probably won't be here when you get back." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> What? Nah, I'll come get you- </em>" </p><p> </p><p>"Johnny, really. I'm okay, I'll be fine. Just got a few errands to run myself." </p><p> </p><p>He scratched at the back of his head, and sighed. "<em> Fuck, fine. I've got the Porsche, so take one of Ker's. He's got tinted windows in all of his rides, pretty sure Shit-heap doesn't. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, sure. Been a while since I drove anythin' that nice - try my best not to break it." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> We uh, still on for tonight? </em>" </p><p> </p><p>A late night conversation tumbled its way back into my mind. A plan of his, formulated on the spot - one I'd agreed with right away. It wasn't as dangerous as our usual bullshit, and for once we had cause to go out and do something a bit wild. Celebrate, unwind. </p><p> </p><p>"'Course we are. I'll meet you there, 'kay?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Preem. Call if you need me. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Sure, sure. Watch your back." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> You too </em>." </p><p> </p><p>I sighed, and found something to wear outta my abandoned cluster of bags on the sofa by the window. Johnny's were here too, and I contemplated just grabbing one his shirts to fuck with him when I saw him later. But nah, stuck to something a little more familiar; form-fitting t-shirt of my own, pair of comfortable pants and soft leather boots. If I was gonna be running "errands" as I told Johnny, I might as well be ready for whatever sorta clusterfucks they could turn into. </p><p> </p><p>To that end I wrestled my hips into a holster, and strapped my iron in. Ready for anything nowadays. I headed downstairs but no signs of life anywhere; not from Kerry, not even Daisy. Johnny must've taken her out with him. So after I idly took a lame breakfast in the form of packet food, I went to peruse the secure cabinet I'd somehow had the restraint to avoid putting my fingers all over. Said cabinet held Kerry's rather lacking and depressing collection of car keys. If I were rich like him? A dozen of the fastest sets of wheels on Earth'd fill this cabinet. </p><p> </p><p>I let out a low whistle as I wrangled the key to a Rayfield Caliburn off its hook. God fucking damn, it'd been a long time since I'd gotten the chance to drive anything as sexy as a Rayfield. Eagerly I headed out the back door to find it sitting there waiting for me, all smooth and shiny. I wondered if Kerry had even popped its cherry and took it for a spin. </p><p> </p><p>Well, too late to care. </p><p> </p><p>The low volume of the engine was kinda disappointing. But it was a hypercar, so I wasn't surprised. After so long of driving around in Shit-heap and the Porsche though - cars with <em> real </em>goddamn engines that roared and purred - it felt as if I hadn't even turned the key. Regardless, I took the care to guide it out of the parking spot and down Kerry's private lane. Stopping long enough for the security gates to roll open and let me out. There were still a handful of medias clustered out here, none as many as yesterday, and I took that as a good sign. They made me twitch-footed when they came close to the car, and I nearly slammed on the gas just to either take them out or speed myself out. I didn't actually kill anyone, so that was a good starting point. </p><p> </p><p>I drove down into the city, trying so very hard to keep it under control and not see how fast this baby could go. On the way, I made use of my holo again, and dialled another contact. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Hey, V, what's up </em>?" asked River, and thankfully sounded a bit more awake than the last time I'd called him. Fuck, how many days ago had the gig been already? It felt like Johnny and I had been wasting away weeks at Kerry's. </p><p> </p><p>Wasting was harsh - it'd imply we hadn't done anything productive. When in reality, we'd been working on slowly breaking Kerry's record for fucking on every surface in his house. </p><p> </p><p>Wasn't sure Kerry would appreciate knowing that though. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, River," I greeted, jumping right into biz, "What have ya got for me?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Why don't you head on over? Joss' place, remember the way? Can show you what I've got </em>." </p><p> </p><p>It was okay. That was fine, because River and I were on the same page nowadays about where we stood. Friendship-wise. Only problem would probably be Joss - last time I'd seen her, she'd been so eager to throw me and River in a locked room together that once or twice, I thought she actually would. It was flattering, I guess, that she thought so highly of me. Or at the very least, was tired of listening to her brother casually bring me up as a topic of conversation. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I remember. On my way." </p><p> </p><p>I hastened to end the call before he could say anything else. I liked River, he was a good guy. Knew his shit, had my back. But - and I hated admitting it - Johnny was right. I'd tried not to notice it, tried to ignore it all those months ago when we'd first partnered up for a few gigs; the way he'd shoot me a boyish grin, or drop a flirty joke in a chat. I'd been okay with it back then, because Johnny was just a stack of data in my head tryna goad me, poke fun at me. Telling me River was desperate to get into my pants. The ironic thing was, the one who was desperate about my pants - in them or taking them off, wasn't really bothered about specifics - was <em> Johnny </em>. He just didn't wanna admit it yet. </p><p> </p><p>But if it bothered Johnny, it bothered me. It could've easily been brushed off as being friendly - maybe sometimes too friendly - but I hoped River would be able to just stay at that distance I'd set. To just be the friend I needed him to be and never hope for more. </p><p> </p><p>And goddamn, if I had to use the imaginary engagement ring on my finger to do it, I would. </p><p> </p><p>I arrived at the trailer park in Red Peaks not long after. Had to make a bit of a detour to change my path but it wasn't that long of a drive, especially in this sexy beast of a machine. Wasn't sure I liked the looks on the faces I passed by, so I made certain to park <em> right </em>outside Joss' front gate; sat the Rayfield right on the ass of River's truck. </p><p> </p><p>He was waiting in the yard for me with a kid I barely recognised; last time I'd seen him, he was scrawny, all meat and bone. Looked half dead, and no one could blame him for the ordeal he'd gone through. Now, Randy looked a healthy weight again, if a bit on the slimmer side, and managed a smile for something River said to him. I got out and locked the door behind me, pocketing the key. </p><p> </p><p>"Goddamn, V, you were drivin' a shitty truck last I saw you." River grinned as he approached on the other side of the fence. "You move up in the world quick, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>I shrugged. "What can I say? Friends in high places. Or high friends in… Places, you decide." I rounded the fence and offered my hand out to the kid at River's side. "Randy, right? Good to see you're back on your feet. I'm-" </p><p> </p><p>"V, yeah. Don't worry, Uncle River and Mom told me about you." he offered me something of a nervous smile and shook my hand. </p><p> </p><p>"Good things, I hope?" </p><p> </p><p>"Kinda hard to say bad things about the gal that saved your nephew's life, V." River rolled his eyes. "Come on, I'll show you where we're at. Randy, watch no one tries klepping V's car, alright?" </p><p> </p><p>"On it." </p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, we avoided any sign of Joss on the way to River's room. I felt bad for <em> wanting </em>to actively dodge outta her path, but I didn't wanna be roped into staying for lunch. Or dinner, or breakfast, or forever. He offered me the chair at his desk and stood nearby to share the explanation of his findings so far. </p><p> </p><p>"First, I looked at similar cases across the city, see if anyone had had something like your friend," he said, and I nodded; rocked a little back and forth on the chair. It squeaked just the tiniest bit so I gave up real fast. "As you can imagine, sorting through confirmed cases of drug-related incidents in this cesspool is a nightmare of a task." </p><p> </p><p>"I bet. But I'd bet even more that the NCPD don't even get the half of the cases." I mumbled, "Remember when I was a kid, watched a pair of Valentinos stick somethin' in their veins and drop like flies within minutes. Their bodies were just gone the next day, no fuss. Still happens, prolly." </p><p> </p><p>"All the damn time. Plus, I only have access to <em> some </em>of the NCPD records - can only get my hands on so many."</p><p> </p><p>"Friends in not so high places, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>River smirked. "Guess you could say that." he folded his arms across his chest, the little dangly necklace going with them. "But with Bes' help, it went a bit smoother. She has a friend who likes to run pieces on crime journalism, gets into a lotta shit for it from corps and the government. But it gave us access to records that I couldn't have gotten otherwise." </p><p> </p><p>I snorted. "Yeah, unofficial ones. Word on the street?" </p><p> </p><p>"Better. Word of the gangs." </p><p> </p><p>As he directed me to turn round to face the screen, I rose a brow. Sure, you could just walk up to any gonk tatted with gang memorabilia and ask them questions, but not just anyone got info out of them. I mean, I'd seen Nancy at work ages ago in Totentaz, trying to ask questions about the Maelstrom's fucking musical tastes and seen how well that had gone; about as well as pushing Adam Smasher down stairs. It'd be like struggling against an immovable object and risking getting your face plate crumbled for just saying the wrong thing. So whoever this journalist was, they had to be cosy with someone. Either up someone's ass or in their pocket, and a gang having a proficient media on their side was bad for everyone but them. Shining lights in the wrong places. </p><p> </p><p>"What the hell's this?" I asked as he pulled up some sort of spreadsheet on the monitor. I managed to translate some of it with a glance, but there were too many tiny Japanese characters on screen to make sense of it all at once; translator had a limit too. </p><p> </p><p>"Some uh, <em> business </em>transactions ran by a faction within the Tyger Claws in the last month." he said, and thankfully, put a bit of distance between us again when he straightened up and backed up. "They're somethin' of a splinter group; call themselves Kiba, led by a guy called Muto Hajime." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, I know him. He works with Rogue." </p><p> </p><p>I really did <em>not </em>want this getting even more complicated. But with the way this was going, it looked more and more likely - more Tyger Claw infighting? Factions and divisions in the ranks, just like there had been with Wakako? And who was Muto fighting for - <em>her </em>memory, or Taki Kazo? And who was Taki loyal to? Himself, or was <em>he </em>the one working with Rogue? </p><p> </p><p>For now, I'd just try to understand the situation from afar. Wasn't gonna go stepping on any toes until I knew more. </p><p> </p><p>"So… Muto's the one pushin' the coke?" I asked, and River nodded. </p><p> </p><p>"They're makin' money, and fast. Been doing all sorts of trades; drugs, guns, bodies. Better yet, it's all under wraps." River rubbed at his temple, pulled a face. A face that just screamed <em> tired </em>; tired of this city's shit. "Gang war brewing, maybe. Maybe Kiba plan to rip control of the Claws." </p><p> </p><p>"Well, Taki Kazo wouldn't be missed by anyone." I muttered, and worst of all, felt myself relating. Still, a little part of me was vaguely… Excited? Intrigued by the mystery, of unravelling a plot. Of having something to do with myself. "But I don't know - might bring it up with Rogue. She prolly has her fingers in this."</p><p> </p><p>"Predictably."</p><p> </p><p>I sighed and spun around in the chair. "Many other gonks get that shit up their noses?" </p><p> </p><p>"Too many to count, unfortunately. But it seems like a pretty common reaction that your friend had - hyper-awareness for a while. Twitching, overabundance of energy, and then a crash. Not all of them were so lucky to have friends and good rippers on hand." </p><p> </p><p>I put my chin on my fist, and huffed. "Fuck." </p><p> </p><p>I felt a bizarre feeling of responsibility about all this. Maybe not to the poor, dead gonks that had had a worse reaction than Henry, but to Henry himself. To Samurai. I felt like it was up to me to fix this - to offer my help to them in the only way I knew how. To dig and find the source of a fucked up problem and stop it. </p><p> </p><p>Evidently, I was caught up thinking way too hard, because when I heard another voice behind me, I nearly jumped outta my goddamn skin. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, sorry, River. Didn't realise you had company." </p><p> </p><p><em> Fuck </em>. Joss. </p><p> </p><p>I spun in the chair, and she grinned at me. Pretending to be delightfully surprised, like she didn't expect it to be me. As if River had more female friends with pink hair. She hadn't changed a bit - still warm and welcoming, with that same kindness in her eyes that River had in his lone one. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, V. It's been a while." she said, almost unable to hide her glee at the image of me, sitting in her brother's room. Really, it was sorta cute how desperately she wanted her brother to just be happy, but goddamn. </p><p> </p><p>I nodded. "Hey. Yeah, I was outta town for a while." </p><p> </p><p>"I'll say. River couldn't reach you for months." she folded her arms and casually leaned against the doorframe - sticking her feet to the ground, then. Wanted me to engage in conversation. "How's things?" </p><p> </p><p>"Eh, y'know. Biz as usual." I said vaguely, shrugging. Didn't really want or need to go into any further detail; didn't tell River half the stuff in my life anymore, so his sister wouldn't get it either. "Good to see Randy's lookin' better." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. You don't know how much of a relief it was to see him start making progress again. Seriously, V, I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you for helping River the way you did to save him." </p><p> </p><p>Pretty sure she'd "thanked" me pretty well when she'd invited me to dinner and spent an hour trying to hook me up with her brother. It was almost like she was getting offended over the rejection on his behalf. </p><p> </p><p>"You'd be welcome to stay for some lunch, V." Joss offered the dreaded invitation, and I quickly shook my head. </p><p> </p><p>"Nah, sorry I, uh-" I cleared my throat and directed my next bit at River so it wouldn't seem <em> too </em>out of place for a namedrop considering they were familiar. "I'm meetin' Johnny soon." </p><p> </p><p>A complete fucking lie. Wasn't meant to meet Johnny until tonight, but neither of them knew that. </p><p> </p><p>"Ah, yeah." River nodded, and he'd been taking my words to heart; didn't actually look all that bothered, just offered me a smile. "Well, I'll definitely keep you updated. If I find out anything else, I'll let you know." </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, River." I got up out of his seat, "And thanks again for helpin' with this whole thing."</p><p> </p><p>"Sure, sure. Come on, I'll show you out." </p><p> </p><p>Joss seemed a bit miffed I was going already. She straightened up and moved aside to let us out, put a smile and gave me a, "See you, V." </p><p> </p><p>"Bye, Joss. Take care." </p><p> </p><p>River waited until we were outside, halfway across the yard to the car, when he offered me the usual apology. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry 'bout her, V. Still desperately wants me to find that special someone, I think." he said with a laugh, stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Prolly doesn't help I haven't told her about Johnny. Not my biz though so I don't know, felt weird bringing it up."</p><p> </p><p>"It's okay." I assured, but in reality I really was just relieved to be out of there. Joss was a good woman, and she was looking out for her brother, but holy fuck, she ought to consider being a host on a match-making show or some shit. </p><p> </p><p>He cleared his throat sorta awkwardly, and shot me a sideways glance. "How uh, are things? You seemed pretty upset with him last I saw. All good now?" </p><p> </p><p>I ran a hand through my hair. Hesitated, at first. Hesitated some more. Then a bit more. I wasn't sure if it was really River's business at all, or whether I wanted to tell him. But as I lingered without saying anything, I could see he was getting increasingly worried, so I just spat it out without really thinking. </p><p> </p><p>"He asked me to marry him." </p><p> </p><p>Almost regretted saying it instantly for the way his only eyeball nearly popped outta his skull. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and after coughing, he tried again. </p><p> </p><p>"That's… Wow, that's big, V. Congrats." he said, and giving him his credit, his smile seemed genuine. He really did seem happy for me - and that was a goddamn relief. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks." the little breathless laugh I let out only showed how relieved I was how coolly he'd taken it. "Honestly, he kinda sprung it outta nowhere. Took me by surprise, but I said yes. It's a lot, but I… I don't know, I'm happy, y'know? So I know I'm doin' the right thing." </p><p> </p><p>"Well, I'm happy for you. So long as he treats you right, I got no complaints. Not that it's my place to complain anyway." </p><p> </p><p>"No, but you're my friend, River. I'd wanna give you a heads up if I thought you were makin' a mistake." I gave him a smile, "So really, thanks. I appreciate it." </p><p> </p><p>"Just gimme a heads up about the wedding date, okay? Gotta find an appropriately embarrassing outfit." </p><p> </p><p>I barked a laugh and once it'd settled down in my gut, I offered him my hand. It felt oddly formal, so I was a bit relieved when he pulled me into a half-hug after shaking my hand. It felt good - relaxed, friendly. Like we were meant to be. Not this awkward toeing around each other, weird feelings jumbled up on something more neither of us had gone for. And for that, I thanked whatever powers that be were up above. I wanted him to be my friend, and I was glad we could have this middle ground. </p><p> </p><p>River smiled softly at me, tiny creases appearing in the corner of his eye. "Take care of yourself, V. See you round." </p><p> </p><p>"You too, River."</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>MAY 09th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / Westbrook, North Oak … 11:13AM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Next, I took my business to Afterlife. My ride got a decent amount of attention in the lot, a handful of whistles and approving looks - far more like the attitude I expected after being stuck in Shit-heap for months. </p><p> </p><p>I had some biz to sort with Rogue. And strangely, not the biz River had presented to me on a silver little platter in the last hour; no, for now, I'd keep my distance on that matter. Keep an eye on the Claws, and this mysterious Kiba faction. Watch the situation develop and maybe approach Rogue if I deemed it necessary but really, what the Claws did was nothing to do with me. And stopping it would be like having someone cut off my feet so I couldn't do my own job anymore. If I was gonna do anything about it, it'd be to confront the gonk that had been in contact with Henry. Break his kneecaps and smash his face plate up a bit. Mug him for good measure, maybe - dealer gotta be carrying decent cash I could hand over to Henry as compensation. </p><p> </p><p>No, this biz was different. The pocket of my jacket was zipped up tight to keep the trio of tiny cameras in it from rolling. After losing Jackie all those months ago, and by extension T-Bug, I didn't have a tech friend anymore. Sure, I had fixers who could maybe dig a bit for me, but this was sensitive. I needed someone I could trust. So, someone <em> Rogue </em>could trust. </p><p> </p><p>Claire waved me over when I headed in; a good thing she did too, because Rogue looked particularly occupied. Pacing, making frustrated gestures as she talked down her holo. I settled at the bar and my ever-reliable bartender served me up a drink. </p><p> </p><p>"How you doin', V? Haven't seen you much lately." she said with a teasing grin on her face, "Not thinkin' about slippin' out for the quiet life, are ya?" </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck no. Just enjoyin' some much needed R&amp;R."</p><p> </p><p>The smile turned into one of approval. "Good!" she chirped with some pride, "Too many of you merc types don't know when to take a break. Glad you know when to back up a bit." </p><p> </p><p>Well, it wasn't as if I'd ever had the <em> choice </em>to take a break. All these years I'd been racing after the next job, the next paycheque, so I could just afford to eat. It was definitely nice to have some real eddies, and a comfortable place to rest my head. A nice pair of strong arms to hold me in said comfortable place; ones that had my back come hell or high water. </p><p> </p><p>"And you?" I asked, cocking my head. "Found a new hobby to replace the racin' addiction?" </p><p> </p><p>Claire snorted, and shuffled to reroll up the sleeves of her overalls. "I want you to guess." </p><p> </p><p>I hummed. "Chess." </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck. I'm not <em> that </em>boring." </p><p> </p><p>That got a laugh outta me. "Alright, alright. Uhh… Well I'm gonna guess you haven't lost your interest in cars, so… You still got your shop? Workin' on things part time?" </p><p> </p><p>"Bingo. I don't know whether I'm just predictable or you're really insightful. But I'd rather compliment you than insult myself, so let's go with the latter." </p><p> </p><p>Fluttering my lashes at her, it was <em> her </em>turn to laugh. I snorted and took another swig of my drink. </p><p> </p><p>"You know Aurelio?" I asked, curious. I mean, considering she <em> worked </em>for Rogue, surely she knew of him at least. Same spheres, especially considering her side work. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, he's helped me out a decent bit setting up. How'd you know him?" </p><p> </p><p>"Through Rogue and Johnny. He fixed up our ride. Though now I have options for tune-ups, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>Claire laughed. "Flattered, V, but Aurelio is far better than me. Simple case of experience." </p><p> </p><p>We kept up our casual little chit-chat until I noticed Rogue was off the holo. Claire wished me luck - I'd need it with Rogue's mood today - and I approached the booth with a friendly smile. Weyland was standing guard today, and gave me a tiny salute when he saw me coming. </p><p> </p><p>"How's you today, Miss V?" he asked, giving me one of those easy breezy grins of his, "Feelin' tip top, yeah?" </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, yeah. Top of my game." </p><p> </p><p>"Good ta hear it. Things be lookin' up for Miss V." </p><p> </p><p>"Better be." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue admitted me into her throne room with a sigh. I settled into the familiar spot on the leather booth on her right; waited for her to deign me deserving of her attention while she swiped through her holo. And when finally she set it down in her lap, she lifted her eyes to look at me and raised a single brow. </p><p> </p><p>"V. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Rogue asked, in a low and slow tone. Tired of me already, wow. New record. </p><p> </p><p>"I need a favour." </p><p> </p><p>If it was possible, her brow rose higher. "You need a <em> favour </em>? They don't come cheap around here." </p><p> </p><p>There it was. Was running out of her charity - apparently saving my skin for the sake of her campaign's poster child Johnny Silverhand was pushing its limits. </p><p> </p><p>I sighed. "How much?" </p><p> </p><p>"How about you tell me what you need, first? And then I'll decide." </p><p> </p><p>Shifting, I leaned back into the booth. Almost mimicked her posture, folded one leg over the other, got comfortable. Showed her that sure, she was in charge - but I wasn't fucking scared of her. Not for a second. </p><p> </p><p>"Need a techie friend." I said, "One you can trust. One who knows their shit - hardware, I mean. Not chrome, neither. Surveillance equipment." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue hummed thoughtfully. She scrutinised me with a hard gaze. "Vague," she commented, "For any purpose I should be worried about?" </p><p> </p><p>"Personal biz. Nothin' important enough that'd be your concern." </p><p> </p><p>I awaited her price - but with the way she was staring at me, you'd think I was awaiting judgement on my dying day. Normally I would've expected a price tag payable by eddies, but somehow I was expecting something else with Rogue - something bigger. After all, she hadn't gotten any return out of saving my life yet. Sure, she'd done Johnny a favour; ensured he stayed loyal to her and her little war. But eddies didn't flow via favours. Biz didn't do itself based on good will and strong bonds of friendship. </p><p> </p><p>"That's a request that only adds to your already hefty bill, V. I'm not quite sure you could afford it." Rogue said with a sigh, and twisted her hand before her face to check her nails. The most dismissive display of confidence a woman could pull, and it only really annoyed me because with the depressing state of my own nails, I couldn't pull the same move. "Instead, I can offer you a task. A favour for a favour." </p><p> </p><p><em> There </em> it was. Well, better to get it over with. </p><p> </p><p>"Shoot." </p><p> </p><p>She looked simultaneously amused and not surprised in the slightest at how fast I'd bitten at her bait. </p><p> </p><p>"I'd like you to do some digging on my behalf." she said, and glanced down at her holo long enough to forward me some details. "I'm looking for someone - an old friend, you could say. Except he went underground a long time ago. I thought it hopeless, really, but I have reason to believe that… Associate whose information I just sent you may know his location." </p><p> </p><p><em> Associate </em>was the wrong word - Johnny would describe him as a 'Saka dog. On the surface, the guy looked like some nondescript Arasaka agent. But appearances were deceiving for corpos - all pristine, crisp suits and smiles, but underneath they packed enough chrome that they'd get sucked to any magnet in a five mile radius. And with Arasaka, it was even worse. Take Takemura and his student Oda as an example; perfect gentlemen, polite and proper and wise. And then underneath it all they were fucking cyberninjas, faster than a goddamn demon and fierce enough to tear the heads off any unsuspecting gonk. </p><p> </p><p>So I wouldn't have been surprised if this guy was the same. And I wasn't sure if I had it in me to take on an Arasaka ninja right now. </p><p> </p><p>"I don't gotta kill him, right?" I asked, shooting Rogue a look from my holo screen. </p><p> </p><p>"No. His personal computer should have access to any useful information, but it'll probably be encrypted. Good luck breaking through that." </p><p> </p><p>Oh, she was surely enjoying the idea of me struggling to hack my way through a tight network port, huh? Joke's on her, really. Anywhere I connected to any computer owned by goddamn Arasaka, Alt followed. I didn't know how or why - only knew that I'd have a chance before she wiped the data simply out of spite to ask her for a bit of patience to help me. Really, it was hard to get a read on her. I didn't know whether she was an ambivalent guardian angel, or if she really was just out for herself. </p><p> </p><p>It didn't matter, really. Because she wasn't Alt, anymore. Who knows what she was? All I knew was that she was helpful. </p><p> </p><p>When she <em> chose </em>to be. </p><p> </p><p>"Do this for me, V," she continued, "And I'll give you the contact you're after. And if you go the extra mile to track him down - bring him back? I'll consider us square. All debts repaid in full." </p><p> </p><p>"And who's the guy I'm looking for?" I asked, "Y'know. The one that's so important both you and Arasaka are huntin' him down." </p><p> </p><p>Rogue smirked, cocked her head at me. For a long moment, she just stared at me with those cold eyes, apparently taking the time to decide whether I was worthy of the information or not. Wondering whether I'd just be a rook on the chessboard, ready to be used and tossed away as needed. Or if I was worth more than that - whether I was trusted to know. </p><p> </p><p>"Tell me, V," she said, slowly, "Have you ever heard of the legend Morgan Blackhand?" </p><p> </p><p>… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>MAY 09th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p><b>NIGHT CITY / Westbrook, North Oak</b> <b>… 01:43PM</b></p><p> </p><p>Maybe it was a good thing I woke up to an empty bed today. Better this way that I didn't make Johnny breakfast in bed and get my appetite fucked away. Because if I <em> had </em>, I abso-fucking-lutely would not be breaking into an apartment building just past lunchtime. </p><p> </p><p>Normally I wouldn't risk a job like this during the day. But lately I'd come more into the whole concept of, "walk like you belong, and no one questions a damn thing." So I did. Waltzed right into the lobby and - for the first time in months - managed a successful quick hack on the scanner blocking my path to the elevator. The receptionist didn't even look up as I passed through, probably far too engulfed in his screamsheet with a Samurai logo and shouty headlines plastered all over the front. </p><p> </p><p>On the ride up, I reread the info Rogue had given me and found myself considering how fucking <em> bizarre </em>this situation was - Morgan fucking Blackhand. He was as legendary as you could get in this city. The Solo's Solo, the man out for money. The mercenary every thug on the streets with iron and the will to use it aspired to be. Fuck, even I'd wanted to be like him when I grew up on the streets of Heywood. A man whose every action was to fatten his own pockets and bring about personal success, morals be damned. </p><p> </p><p>Though Rogue had painted a slightly different picture. He was a grizzled mercenary in her eyes, sure - bit of "a selfish dick," in her words. But despite being loyal only to himself and his eddies, he'd saved her life more times than she could count. He'd been reliable, trustworthy. Was a fucking machine in battle and the impressive chrome that was his famous Blackhand could put Johnny's Silverhand to shame. </p><p> </p><p>And, according to her, if we stood any chance at bringing down Arasaka, we needed <em> him </em>. </p><p> </p><p>"With him, we can bring Militech on board." Rogue had explained, and at the raised brows on my face, she'd made it a little more explicit. "There's a lotta history here but I'll give you the short version: Fourth Corporate War? Arasaka on one side, Militech on the other. It was Blackhand that was hired by them, it was <em> him </em> that got their funding, it was <em> him </em> that waged their secret war. It was because of Blackhand we went into that fucking tower and planted that goddamn bomb that ended the war. We want to win <em> this </em>one? We get Blackhand, we get Militech. The end."</p><p> </p><p>The worst part was the part that stuck out to me the most. If Rogue was telling the truth - and she usually had little reason to lie - that meant Johnny wasn't. I could remember his memories of that strike on Arasaka Tower very, very, <em>very </em>fucking vividly. And there was no sign of Blackhand anywhere in his head. No mention of him. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck, in his memory, he'd told Rogue the attack was <em> his </em>op. </p><p> </p><p>I wasn't prepared to butcher our brief window of bliss just yet, so the fact I'd been given reason to confront him about something new was doing wonders to piss all over my parade. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue had done her homework. Shaking off any thoughts of my fiance - felt weird as fuck to think of him like that - I turned my attention back to my holo as I stepped off the elevator on the eighth floor. The hallway I was in was slim but sleek, black walls with gold trims, smooth wooden floorboards. I followed the information available to me and slowed my speed when I began the approach on the door branded with an elegant six on it. I scanned the corridor for cameras, and shut them down quick before prying the front panel off the box beside the door. Jacking in, I realised how goddamn long it had been since I did this stuff. I felt rusty, out of practise. Still not enough to fail, though; the door slid open and I quickly disconnected, and slipped inside before the cameras woke up again.</p><p> </p><p>Guy was living the high life. Must've been a higher rank in Arasaka than I thought, though nowadays that wasn't necessarily hard - after Mikoshi, and their Secure Your Soul program crashed and burned, so many were jumping ship. Even more on the lower end were being cut out of their positions, so this guy must've been decently important to still have his job. I checked for cameras but didn't spy any. And then, quick as I could, I raced to his desk and woke up the monitor. Didn't even glance at the locked screen of the computer as I found a slot to jack into. </p><p> </p><p>"Alt, my favourite psycho AI, you there?" I asked, with not nearly enough time to feel weird about talking to no one. For a little while, I was greeted with just silence. As I began to think maybe I was a <em> little </em> fucked, and I'd have to crack this myself, a voice echoed off the insides of my skull. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Hello, V </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"Phew. Scared me for a sec." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> You should not have worried. I have access to most of Arasaka's systems world-wide - I was simply preoccupied elsewhere. </em> " somehow I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and I was just glad her disembodied, robotic voice in my head couldn't see it. " <em> Why did you believe calling for me would allow me to access you? </em>" </p><p> </p><p>"Uh… I don't know. Guessed." I said with a shrug, "You keep poppin' up whenever I jack into Arasaka tech, so I just assumed…" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Incorrectly. It is not Arasaka that triggers my presence </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"What, then?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> You operate under the assumption that you are an entirely separate entity from me, correct </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>I wasn't sure I liked the sound of where this might be going. "You're not about to tell me you're in my head all the time, are you?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> I am. </em> " she said, and suddenly I felt… Squirmy. It was uncomfortable and bizarre enough to consider an AI having watched me all this time - somehow I was less worried about it than the cameras I'd found in the apartment; did I trust Alt in a weird way? - but it was even worse to consider <em> this </em> reality. That Alt, Johnny's ex-turned power-hungry rogue AI was just lying dormant in my head all this time while I did, frankly, unspeakable things with him. But she kept talking like I <em> wasn't </em> having a special sort of existential crisis; " <em> Unfortunately, I was unable to disentangle myself from your data stream upon recreating your being in the form of a new engram, after dividing your digital consciousness from that of Johnny Silverhand. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>I took a breath. Now <em> that </em>wasn't what I'd been expecting to learn today. </p><p> </p><p>"Meanin'?" I pressed. If she was really in my head at all times, we could absolutely have this conversation later, when we weren't pressed for an unknown amount of time. But the thought was planted in my head now, and I had to know, "You in his head too?" </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Thankfully, I am able to ignore both of you ninety-nine percent of the time. </em> " she confirmed, and insulted, at the same time. " <em> The one percent is occasions like this - where you connect us to a particularly interesting node. Or you directly provoke me </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"Not sure I like the sound of <em> provoke </em>, Alt. I just need some help." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> A block like this is child's play. Decoding. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>Well, <em> that </em>was perhaps the easiest amount of convincing I'd ever done. My vision of the screen glitched, and when it righted itself, her name branded in plain, harsh yellow flashed in the middle. And then, once her hack was finished running, it vanished - and gave me perfect access to the computer itself. </p><p> </p><p>"You're a gem, Alt. Thanks." I said, and began my search. Clicked into his files, first of all, but felt like I could've vomited from his lack of organisation almost <em> instantly </em>. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> We will be here all day. What are you searching for </em>?" she asked, and I raised a brow. Particularly helpful today, was she? The last time she'd spoken to me, she'd blown up the truck I'd been fucking standing in. What had gotten into her? </p><p> </p><p>"Lookin' for anythin' relating to Morgan Blackhand." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Searching. Stand by </em>." </p><p> </p><p>I lifted my hand off the mouse as she did her thing; I didn't even need to fucking be here from the looks of how she had things handled. A million files flew by the screen in every other millisecond, and with every occurance of Blackhand in one manner or another, she reported a, "<em> Match </em>." and presented it on screen for me. I hummed, began tryna read and as soon as I got through one line, she'd throw another document on top. Grumbling, I'd move it aside, only for another to appear. </p><p> </p><p>"Can you work with me here, not against me?" I muttered, and if an AI could click its tongue, Alt did. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> I apologise for being effective. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Apology accepted. Just… Put them on the side of the screen or somethin'." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> I suspect the value of sarcasm is still appreciated </em> ?" she asked, and for once, her monotony sounded vaguely irritated. Almost human like she once sounded through Johnny's memories. " <em> As that was intended as sarcasm. It was </em> <b> <em>not </em> </b> <em> an apology </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, yeah. Keep lookin'." </p><p> </p><p>I skimmed over the first few documents, and by the time I'd gotten to the third, Alt's search was completed. Evidently I was going too slow for her liking: "<em> Are you searching for something in particular </em>?" she asked. </p><p> </p><p>"His location, preferably."</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Searching. One moment </em>." </p><p> </p><p>I couldn't do much but awkwardly sit and wait, tapping the desk's surface in tune to <em> Chippin' In </em>and hoping we wouldn't get surprised by the gonk returning home early. There wasn't much I could do to help, because fuck knows I couldn't beat an AI in a data search. Still, didn't have to wait long - thirty seconds, maybe, if that. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Match: [Top-Secret] Report, MB. </em> " Alt said, and drew up one of the documents buried beneath to the top. " <em> I will scroll to page three - quote, 'last known location: ESA Embassy, Night City. March 26th'. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"ESA?" I murmured, feeling like I <em> knew </em>that from somewhere. It was on the tip of my tongue, and it hit me just as Alt spoiled my fun and solved the acronym. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> The European Space Agency, commonly also referred to as the European Space Council. It is the world's largest and most advanced space faring organ </em>-" </p><p> </p><p>"Alright, alright, I get it. Don't need the Wikipedia read-off." I dismissed quickly, waving a hand she couldn't see. "But… The NC Embassy is only used for one thing - and no one goes there but the richest of the rich." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Indeed. It appears our friend Blackhand is out of reach </em>." </p><p> </p><p>I huffed. How the <em> fuck </em>had a merc afforded to go to the Crystal fucking Palace? Well, it would be vaguely believable for a man like Morgan Blackhand. He could've decided to hell with this world and ran away to live his life in the luxury up in space. But it felt like it didn't fit for a guy like him - it felt more like he was running. Or hiding. </p><p> </p><p>"Can you make a copy of this data?" I asked, "And delete it entirely from their records? If we're lucky, the only 'Saka agent that's seen this is this guy." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Unlikely, but I can remove all traces from Arasaka databases. I presume you have a shard onto which I can create a copy of this information </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>I scrambled for the inside pocket of my jacket and offered it into the computer. Alt took over once more, her name flashing on screen for a moment. It was bizarre, really, that an AI like her would cling to her name. Really, names probably meant nothing to them, I wasn't sure <em> anything </em>did. In fact, it probably made it even more dangerous and easier to be targeted by Netwatchers with an easily identifiable name. But by now, Alt was powerful - powerful enough to be dismantling Arasaka from the inside. Her theft of the souls within Mikoshi should've been enough, but for some reason, she hadn't stopped. And it was satisfying for both of us to watch Arasaka's tech crumble. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> Done. Disconnecting now. </em>" she announced all of a sudden, and the silence would've been abrupt if the transition between our conversation and her leaving hadn't felt so smooth. She hadn't been lying, huh? That she was just hovering in the back of my head - like a less intrusive version of Johnny's engram. Maybe I'd keep what I learned to myself; I didn't know how Johnny would feel knowing his ex was in his head. </p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, I guess." I managed as I jacked out of the computer. Took the shard, too; securely tucked it into the zipped jacket pocket which held the goddamn cameras still. Even if I couldn't get Blackhand and square off my debts with Rogue, the information I had here should've been enough to trade for the contact I wanted. </p><p> </p><p>I managed to slip out the same way I'd come no problem. The interesting shit happened when I made it down to the lobby - had the plan that I was going to walk out the way I'd come in, like I belonged, like I knew what I was doing. Except that stopped the <em> second </em>the elevator doors slid open and I found myself standing face to face with Goro Takemura. </p><p> </p><p>He tensed at the exact second I did. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, <em> fuck. </em>He wasn't visibly armed like me, but that didn't mean he didn't have his Arasaka-funded implants back. That didn't mean he wasn't as dangerous as any other cyberninja I'd ever fought, if not more. He could've very easily stepped into this elevator and killed me there and then and no one would've been any wiser. In fact, he'd promised he would do so if he found me directly confronting Arasaka again. We would be enemies if he threatened what he was loyal to protect. </p><p> </p><p>Except he resigned himself to taking a polite step to the side, and gestured for me to pass. For a second, I simply stared at him - dared him to take back his offer. But when he didn't budge, I slowly stepped out of the elevator and walked around him; he didn't move, but his eyes followed me as I went by. I didn't make the mistake of turning my back, either - watched him enter the elevator in my place and clasp his hands together in front of him. We stared at each other for as long as the elevator doors would let us - and when they slid shut, I let out a breath I didn't realise I'd been holding. </p><p> </p><p>Why the fuck did he let me go? If he was here, he knew who lived here. He knew <em> why </em>I was here, so why did he let me walk? </p><p> </p><p>I didn't look a gift horse in the mouth, but I was also careful not to let my guard down. No one was watching me in that lobby, but that didn't mean they were Arasaka agents too. Once I was out on the safety of the street - the irony wasn't lost on me - I scanned the Rayfield. When it… Appeared completely normal, I got in, started the engine. </p><p> </p><p>And put my foot on the gas to speed away from Takemura as fast as I could. </p><p> </p><p>… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>MAY 09th, 2078 / JOHNNY</b>
</p><p><b>NIGHT CITY / Westbrook, North Oak</b> <b>… 06:47PM</b></p><p> </p><p>Being so close to Arasaka Tower gave me the heebie-jeebies. It wasn't the original I knew - hell no. That had been leveled in 2023; the new one V had broken into had been built on the site a few years later. What kind of idiot builds a relic to corporate colonialism on the exact same site where it was burned to the ground before? </p><p> </p><p>Something Rogue had said once stuck out in my head. "<em> What kind of idiot does the same thing over and over expecting a different result </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>Well, this time, I wasn't launching an attack on the tower. Neither was V - whenever she was gonna show up. She was fucking <em> late </em>. </p><p> </p><p>I sighed, and put my head up against the chair. Aurelio wasn't kidding, the new leather in my baby was comfy as all hell. Could've fallen asleep if I wasn't in Corpo Plaza - parked up out of the way of the busy lanes at the spot I'd agreed to meet up with V. It had been a hasty plan on my behalf, hadn't really even checked with V if she was okay to come here. Just threw it out there and fell asleep without knowing if she'd agreed or not. </p><p> </p><p>The knock on my window nearly scared the shit outta me. When I saw V grinning at me - evidently pleased with herself that she'd startled me - I huffed, turned off the engine and grabbed for my jacket on the seat beside me. Tonight was the first time it hadn't rained in a week, but I didn't trust it. I'd gone back to Kerry's to drop Daisy off and grab my jacket; he'd been more than willing to dog-sit for a few hours while the adults went out to have fun. </p><p> </p><p>"Heya, stranger." she said when I locked up the Porsche behind me. I rolled my eyes and walked past her; she quickly caught up, and we climbed the stairs to the footbridge down the street. "What gives? No lovey-dovey greeting for your fiance, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>I snorted - she seemed to like that title a lot more than she thought she would've last night. Said it with a pretty little smile on her face, and when she reached for my hand, I let her take it. </p><p> </p><p>"What do ya want me to say?" I asked, and her smile was replaced with a scowl. I grinned, "Oh, I missed you so much, darlin'. Today's been so tough without you. That better?" </p><p> </p><p>She barked a sudden laugh, and let go of my hand to shove my shoulder. I trailed after her across the footpath, watching the cars fly by on the roundabout below us. When we reached the bizarre circle feature in the middle, we were careful to wander around for a little while to check for security - watched her eyes flash a pretty orange every time she disabled a camera we passed by. And then, once we were seemingly in the clear, she raced to the barrier beyond the hedges and vaulted over it, no hesitation. </p><p> </p><p>When I joined her on the other side, I felt a little uneasy about the layer of glass under my feet being the only thing keeping us from plummeting into oncoming traffic below. Still, V seemed relatively confident about it, and was already paces away towards the centre. I followed, and didn't feel <em> any </em>better about the glass situation when she lowered herself to it and spread-eagled up at the sky. </p><p> </p><p>"Get over here, pussy." she snapped her fingers at me without even looking, and it got a snort outta me. Awkwardly, I lowered myself to sit behind her. Fuck, I knew this had been my idea, but I wasn't so sure about the whole glass floor situation. But when I settled on my back beside her, I realised why she'd been so eager to lie down; even with the corpo buildings towering around us, trying their damndest to cut out the sky, the view of the stars was something else. Maybe it was an illusion or some sorta trick to make the plaza look nicer, but somehow the tiny dots in the sky were plain as if we were out in the middle of the Badlands. </p><p> </p><p>V rolled her head over to look at me - tapped my side with the back of her hand. </p><p> </p><p>"So, what'd you do today?" she asked, and I quirked a brow. </p><p> </p><p>"Told you, I had some biz I needed to take care of. Thought I'd be back before you woke up but plans changed." I said vaguely, and knew she'd get pissy, so I caught her hand in mine before she could turn that tap into a lazy slap. "Went out, needed to buy some shit, so I did. Was gonna come back when I got a call. Night of the gig, those kids that were on stage before me? I spoke to the guitarist backstage. Name's Steve." </p><p> </p><p>She sat up, propped herself up on one elbow to look down at me. Wasn't very well lit up here, and all the light was coming <em> down </em>from the towers around us, so the shadows cast by her hair were doing her no favours. I ran my hand through it and pushed it back over her shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>"And? What about him?" she pressed. Only curiously, I knew. </p><p> </p><p>"Kid's got potential. Was just demonstratin' it really poorly - so I gave him my number. Told him if he found his balls, he should call me and I'd help him out." </p><p> </p><p>"So I'm guessin' he found them?" </p><p> </p><p>I nodded. "Yeah. He's a good kid - met up with him. He's chasin' a pipe dream, wants to be a rockstar. Trapped at home with a dad that beats the shit outta him; feel bad for the kid." I shrugged, let out a sigh. "Even if he doesn't become some world-star musician, I wanna help him. Teach him what I know about guitar, give him a skill he could use to get out of the shitty situation he's in." </p><p> </p><p>"That's…" I wasn't sure what I was expecting her to say, but it wasn't what came next, "Damn, Johnny, that's really… Sweet. Not like you to help people outta the goodness of your heart - not many know you actually have one." </p><p> </p><p>"Shut up." I chuckled, and sat up beside her with a breath. Somehow I was getting used to the glass floor, even when headlights of cars flew by underneath us. "Took Daisy for a walk. She chased down a pigeon, nearly killed the goddamn thing." </p><p> </p><p>"Damn, she's brutal. Guess you were feelin' like a proud papa, huh?"</p><p> </p><p>"Sure, sure," I snorted, "'Cept I don't ever wanna see Daisy in a fight. Wouldn't stand a chance." </p><p> </p><p>V hummed and stared off sorta distantly at the road beneath us. The thought of Daisy involved in any sort of violence, not standing a chance against impossible odds - probably triggering memories in her head she didn't wanna think about. So I decided to distract her. </p><p> </p><p>"I got you somethin'." I said, and she turned to blink at me. </p><p> </p><p>"You… Got me somethin'?" she echoed, and eyed up the box I pulled out of my pocket with suspicion. I didn't say or do anything - just offered it out to her. She let out a sort of uneasy breath, and took it off me. "What is it, Johnny?" </p><p> </p><p>"Why would I tell you? You're meant to find out when you open it." </p><p> </p><p>Huffing, she flicked it open. She did it one quick motion, like she was ripping off a bandaid - getting it over and done with. Except she faltered when she opened up the box and didn't just find the one ring she expected. </p><p> </p><p>"Why'd you get two?" she asked, a special kind of quiver in her voice that she usually never showed. </p><p> </p><p>"One's the engagement ring you demanded." I explained, poking my finger at the thinner gold band on the left - asked Kerry's opinion, and he'd insisted on getting one with at <em> least </em>one little crystal embedded in the centre. And the other one was even simpler; plain gold, and on the surface was a simple, ordinary ring. "Other's a wedding ring." </p><p> </p><p>"I thought…" she wet her lips, and turned to look at me with those pretty mismatched eyes. Hesitated for a second, and fumbled with the box between her fingers. "I thought you'd want some sort of big, elaborate celebration or somethin'. A cheesy wedding."</p><p> </p><p>"Don't give a shit. If you want that, we'll have it, but makes no difference to me." </p><p> </p><p>And I meant it. I really didn't see myself as the kinda guy to stand at an altar and await her in a pretty white dress - and she wasn't the type of girl to blush under a veil and start tearing up when I slipped a ring on her finger. Sure, we could have a celebration of some sort if that was what she wanted. Hell, even if in some bizarre universe she <em> wanted </em>a traditional wedding, I'd probably grin and bear it. Didn't matter to me. Not so long as she was my wife. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, you've got me surprised," she murmured with a little laugh, "I don't have one for you." </p><p> </p><p>"That's okay. You can get whatever stupid shit engraved in it that you want." I offered, and she snorted. I nodded at the box, "Have a look at it. Engraved on the inside." </p><p> </p><p>She carefully - like she was examining some relic from a thousand years ago - plucked the ring free of its cushion, and I held the box for her while she held it up to the light. When she'd finished squinting, she looked at me with such an amused look of disbelief I wasn't sure whether she would laugh or yell at me. </p><p> </p><p>"Who the fuck are you, and what have you done with Johnny Silverhand?" she asked, and shook her head at me. "You're ridiculous. You really got this engraved?" </p><p> </p><p>"Bitch, I paid extra for luminescence. Yes, it'll glow if you rub it long enough." </p><p> </p><p>"First of all, that sounds like a really interesting innuendo. Second, don't call your wife a bitch." </p><p> </p><p>I grinned - couldn't help it. Was instinctive, uncontrollable. "You ain't my wife yet." I said, "You're not wearin' it." </p><p> </p><p>As if just to spite me, she immediately slid the ring onto her finger. Unfurled her fingers to examine it on herself, and then turned it to show me. It wasn't quite complete yet, so I took her hand and added the goddamn engagement ring she'd demanded too. </p><p> </p><p>"There." V affirmed, looking all smug with herself. "Now, you're legally not allowed to call me a bitch anymore." </p><p> </p><p>"That's not how marriage works-" </p><p> </p><p>"Says <em> you </em>! As if you know." she barked with a laugh. </p><p> </p><p>"And <em> you </em> do?" </p><p> </p><p>"Nope. Haven't the foggiest, which makes us the perfect married couple." </p><p> </p><p>I chuckled, and realised she hadn't stopped staring at her hand since she put the rings on. Part of me had expected her to laugh at me and refuse the wedding ring - tell me again about the "proper" way to do things, that we were meant to arrange things and have a celebrant, sign legal shit. But nah. She looked more than content with the way things had played out. And I was glad she'd enjoyed the inscription I'd chosen - another insistence by Kerry, swearing it was romantic and for some reason, V would therefore love it. So I'd tried to think of something that'd mean something to her. Something that meant something to <em> me </em>.</p><p> </p><p>So I'd taken the liberty to rehash something I'd said once. <em> You're here. You always were </em>. </p><p> </p><p>I was sure there was more nonsense I'd said too, but it wasn't important anymore. She was happy with it and that was all that really mattered. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, well," she started, and cleared her throat, "Since we're announcin' big things and whatnot, I kinda have some news. And I don't know if you're gonna like it." </p><p> </p><p>And <em> that </em>could mean any number of things. Once upon a time that sort of ambiguity wouldn't bother me. But considering I'd just put a ring on her finger, that meant whatever "news" she had, I was roped in too. </p><p> </p><p>Trying not to sigh, "Alright. Shoot." I suggested. </p><p> </p><p>"It's… A bit of a long story, but Rogue has offered me a job. A big one, Johnny, a really fuckin' big one." V started, and I wasn't sure I liked where this was going - Rogue and big jobs didn't mesh well together. <em> V </em>and big jobs didn't mesh well together. The last big job she'd pulled was breaking into Arasaka tower, and we'd barely made it out of that alive. Before that was the biochip heist, and we both knew how that went. Still, she kept babbling, leaning towards me to get back into my line of sight when I found myself staring off to the side. "It'll clear our debt with her, Johnny. And she's gonna pay, too - it lines up with another client she has. It's gonna work out." </p><p> </p><p>I huffed. I knew for a fact Rogue didn't give a shit about any debt <em> I </em>might've held with her - but for V it was something else. Best fixer in town? Had to keep that relationship clean and comfy. Even if Rogue put up with my bullshit, V as a free merc had to watch her rep. Plus the allure of good money was probably also helping. </p><p> </p><p>"What sorta job?" I asked cautiously, and V sighed. </p><p> </p><p>"Okay, this is the part you might not like." </p><p> </p><p>"Just spit it out." </p><p> </p><p>"You heard of Crystal Palace?" </p><p> </p><p>"No." </p><p> </p><p>I didn't mean it in response to her question and that was obvious from the firm way I shook my head and scowled. She knew<em> I </em> knew what it was. No, my response was an immediate, knee-jerk reaction to the idea of what it could mean. </p><p> </p><p>"Just hear me out." she asked, raising her hands innocently. She didn't wait for a response, just started talking again. "It's an easy enough job. I find someone, I klep some shit, I come back down."</p><p> </p><p>"You're over simplifying it, V. Nothin' ever goes that easily for an op of Rogue's - especially not when you're the merc hired for the job." </p><p> </p><p>She sighed, and rubbed at her forehead. "Listen, Johnny, you don't understand how much of a big deal this is. No one's <em> ever </em>broken into Crystal Palace before and pulled off an op like this - I'll come back down rich and famous."</p><p> </p><p>"You're <em> already </em>infamous."</p><p> </p><p>"This is what I've always wanted! This… Johnny, this is the fuckin' major leagues." </p><p> </p><p><em> Major leagues </em> . I scoffed. Now <em> that </em> was a fucking pipe dream, one her choom Jackie had died for. And yet here she was, still chasing it. Still desperate to go down as a legend - not content with being Arasaka's angel of death, because she hadn't brought that about directly. She hadn't meant to become that. <em> She </em>wanted her hands all over her own mythos, wanted to paint the picture history would remember her by herself. But that wasn't how history worked, I knew that myself. Half the world remembered me as a rock legend and the other half for the terrorist I'd become. </p><p> </p><p>But she wouldn't listen to me. Her mind was evidently already set. </p><p> </p><p>"You know what this means?" I asked, picking her hand up outta her lap. Turned it so that she could see the new rings on her finger. She hesitated, clearly unsure where I was going with this. "We're partners, V. You're not meant to just decide this shit on your own." </p><p> </p><p>She huffed at me and pulled her hand outta my grip. "Well, your input doesn't really matter in this situation, Johnny. It's not like you're comin' with me." </p><p> </p><p>"<em> What </em>?" </p><p> </p><p>Why did she look as if she expected me to just nod and take that? "Well, you realise how goddamn expensive it is, right? Rogue's sponsor isn't gonna pay for more than one person - Crystal Palace rents out their accommodation to the highest bidder."</p><p> </p><p>Right.<em> Right </em> . So not only had she made this decision by herself, but she wasn't taking me with her. She was going to fucking <em> space </em> and her plan was to leave me behind down here. Anyone'd think we'd taken steps backwards instead of where we were with my wedding ring on her finger. </p><p> </p><p>"How long will you be gone?" I asked. Neither of us missed the tone in my voice - I hadn't meant to sound so cold, but I also didn't wanna hide it either. </p><p> </p><p>V let out a little sigh. "The trip there'll take a day, maybe two. And the deadline I've been given is a month." </p><p> </p><p>"A month." I echoed, and felt as hollow as it would sound bouncing off the walls of an empty hall. A fucking <em> month </em> ? She expected me to just be cool with her being gone for an entire <em> month, </em>if not longer, when I'd just made it abundantly clear that I didn't want to be apart from her. The worst part was, even as I felt the rage bubbling under my skin, it didn't make me wanna see her face any less. Especially not if she was dead set on going - I'd stare at her for as long as I fucking could if she was gonna be gone for that long, even if I was angry. I didn't know much about goddamn space, but even I knew signal strength was outta wack up there. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey," she said softly, and reached out to me. Felt the cold bite of her metal fingers at my chin, and she turned me up to look at her; tried my hardest to ignore how nice it felt when she ran the backs of them up along my jaw. "It'll fly by. A month's nothin', baby." </p><p> </p><p>"So you're definitely goin'?" I asked. Wasn't sure if I wanted the answer. "When?" </p><p> </p><p>"Rogue's still ironin' out details, but it'll be soon. Think of it this way - faster I go, sooner I'm back." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, that makes me feel so much better." </p><p> </p><p>She teased me with a little smile, leaned forward to kiss my cheek. Dunno who she thought I was that I'd let her escape without a real one - a proper kiss, one that left her breathy and smiley. Didn't let her go, neither; wound my arm around her waist and hauled her to me, kept her tight against my chest. </p><p> </p><p>"Don't be such a baby," she said playfully, and kissed my temple, "You won't be lonely. You'll have Kerry and Samurai to keep you busy. And you'll be Daisy's only parent for a little while." </p><p> </p><p>"What if you come back and I've got another dog?" </p><p> </p><p>V laughed. "That's fine. If you need another fur-baby to cope, then I'll happily adopt a new baby." </p><p> </p><p>She ran her fingers through my hair, and turned me up to look at her. She was against a backdrop of stars, shining as bright as her smile, and I wondered just what I'd done to deserve this second chance. And with her, of all people. </p><p> </p><p>"I know!" she said with a grin, "I'll bring you back a little present. Space ring." </p><p> </p><p>"Space ring?" I repeated dryly, quirked a brow. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah! Supposedly the best shopping, gambling, and general debauchery in the world… Well, universe up there. I'll get you a wedding ring that's… Out of this world." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, fuck. That was terrible." </p><p> </p><p>She let out a bubbly laugh, one that only faded when she came down to kiss me. Fuck. How was I supposed to just get on with my life without her for an entire month? Without me even realising it, she'd <em> become </em> my life. And I was meant to just go about normal things while she was off branding her name in merc history in fucking space? She wasn't wrong - a month <em> would </em>fly by. But that didn't make me feel any better about the prospect of waking up in an empty bed every day. Didn't chase off the empty feeling already settling in my stomach, a familiar friend I thought I'd fucked off after finding this little slice of happiness with her. </p><p> </p><p>I wanted to slap some sense into myself. It was only a month. Just thirty days, give or take. I could go a month without her. It'd be easy. Cake, even. </p><p> </p><p>But then she kissed me again and fuck, suddenly I wasn't so sure. I wanted her, goddamn it. Why'd she have to go? </p><p> </p><p>"It won't be for a little while yet," she promised, "You have me for a few more days, Johnny. Make the most of it." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I intend to." </p><p> </p><p>I did. Wanted to brand every fucking part of her into my memory, just so that I had something to think about when I was alone, something to chase away that unease. Was that what it was? She made me feel safe? Wanted? I guess, but it felt so much deeper. She was my fucking wife, and I still didn't feel like it was enough. </p><p> </p><p>"When I'm back, we can have a big, stupid weddin'." she offered, and I snorted. "I mean it. Fancy do, I'll even wear a dress if you wear a tux. Have an after party with an after party."</p><p> </p><p>I squeezed her in my arms, and yeah; I think I could agree with that. "I'm gonna hold you to that, Mrs. Silverhand." </p><p> </p><p>She let out a sudden bark of a laugh that seemed to take her off-guard as much as it surprised me. Evidently she hadn't considered that part of the whole marriage thing too deeply - but the look of glee on her face showed that she was happy about it. More than happy, maybe. It was dawning on her, a little revelation of how much such a stupid, tiny change could make her feel. Because I knew <em> saying </em>it made me feel giddy like a kid. Was the first time I'd let myself admit to something so simple, so normal. To want to pursue happiness instead of chasing that anger. It felt… Good to feel something other than hollow. </p><p> </p><p>It was unfair, then, that she was gonna take all that happiness up with her. </p><p> </p><p>"Now…" V started with an evil little smile, and eyed up our surroundings. "Whaddya say to some destruction of public property?" </p><p> </p><p>I raised a brow. "I'd feel better about destruction of <em> corpo </em> property." </p><p> </p><p>"Good thing we're in Corpo Plaza then, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>She disentangled herself from me, and dusted herself off. The light caught on her rings as she moved, and I couldn't help notice it. I'd worn rings basically every day of my life, they were basically just a part of me now, but V very rarely wore jewellery aside from her piercings. Wasn't sure I'd ever get tired of seeing those rings on her. </p><p> </p><p>Wasn't sure I'd ever get tired of her. </p><p> </p><p>"Get the fuck up, Samurai." V teased, with that wide, dazzling smile that reached her mismatched eyes of red and blue, and offered me her hand.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "We've got a city to burn." </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Again, thank you all so much for the support on this fic. I'm so excited to begin work on the sequel, so hopefully you won't have to wait too long. What did you think of the ending? Excited to see where things are gonna go from here? Looking forward to V's adventures in the Crystal Palace? Lemme know your thoughts!</p><p>While you wait for more fic content, here are a few things to share with you about V and Johnny content I've created outside of this fic:<br/>- Lookie <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/post/644470945525989376/im-going-to-stare-at-these-until-my-eyes-dont">here</a> to see them being soft and looking fancy.<br/>- <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/post/644490578231476224/i-did-the-ship-thing-for-the-walking-disaster-duo">here</a> for one of those cutesy ship memes.<br/>- <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/post/644392818923732992/johnnys-contact-info-on-vs-holo-is-ass-king">Johnny's contact info</a> on V's holo (remember Ass-King?)<br/>- and last but not least: <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/post/644329067349409792/i-found-her-i-found-shit-heap-shit-heap-is-the">Shit-heap</a>. Glorious, wonderful Shit-heap. I found her after all this time. </p><p>Let's be real; Shit-heap is the real reason we're all here. </p><p>I sorta can't believe the Rebel Path is over, but I'm so excited to share more of Johnny and V's story with you guys. I'll see you all again soon with more 2078!</p><p>As always, I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr! You can come and scream with me in the <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Cyberpunks discord server</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>OKAY I swear I was gonna leave it where it was. But I saw the word count and it hurt my brain, and the lovely bean_cup from the <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Cyberpunks discord server</a> suggested I round it off up to a total word count of 169,420. How could I not?</p><p>The best part is? </p><p>This epilogue is 2078 words long.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>MAY 13th, 2078 / V</b>
</p><p>
  <b>NIGHT CITY / ??? … 11:32AM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Is all of that clear?”</p><p> </p><p>“Crystal.” </p><p> </p><p>Somehow I restrained myself from laughing at the irony of my own joke. Ever since I was a kid, I’d glanced up at the sky and spied the shape of the Crystal Palace in the shadow of the moon and wondered just <em> what </em> it was like up there. What it was like in the lap of luxury. What it was like to, “Feel alive in the dead of space.” in the famous words of their marketing campaigns - campaigns obviously only ever pushed to the richest of the rich. After all, unless you were essentially made of eddies, you’d never come close to even the <em> idea </em> of stepping foot in that space station. Paradise wasn’t on earth; it was up there, out of reach for all but the top one percent.</p><p> </p><p>Weird, really, that I was having this chance. </p><p> </p><p>I wasn’t in the top one percent. I’d never been - probably never would be. Sure, I could make myself rich, and live a good life - through hard work - but this would never come around again. Even if I wasn’t going up there for work, even if my relationship with Rogue was on the line here, I’d probably still scramble at the chance to go. Even if it meant my current reality; sitting with Rogue in Afterlife, being briefed by her mysterious client. A one curious Mr. Blue Eyes, who sure enough, had the eyes to match; piercing, glowing things. I could’ve stayed in bed this morning. Let Johnny lull me back into his arms and tell me I wasn’t going anywhere. </p><p> </p><p>He knew launch was coming soon, and he got mopier with every day that passed. It was frankly sorta upsetting; he was getting angrier as the days went by as if that’d change my mind. Felt almost like he was falling back into his old ways of throwing his attitude around thinking the people around him would just be too intimidated to argue. He was stuck in a sort of weird limbo, of being casually supportive of what I was doing, then being frustrated that I was either A) doing it without him or B) doing it at all. I mean, I felt like I kinda understood it - I’d felt something similar when he’d been reuniting with Samurai, felt as if I was a new part of his life that didn’t belong in how it once was. It was the same now; Johnny was now just a piece tagged onto how my life used to run, and I wasn’t about to miss out on an opportunity like this because of him.</p><p> </p><p>Didn’t stop the damn guilt though. I’d take one look down at my hands - see his finger in between my other metal ones on my left; the engagement and wedding rings on my right - and wonder if I was making some sort of mistake. But I wasn’t gonna be gone forever. Just one month, just a tiny month, that was all. </p><p> </p><p>Except we’d been together every single day for the past year. Excluding some notable instances, of course - when I had a slumber party at Maelstrom, for one. It probably would be a little weird to be separated for more than a few days; and further apart than a trip worth the same amount of time. And one thing I knew for certain was that up in space? Holos didn’t work. The only means of communication back down to earth from the Crystal Palace were dedicated connections handled directly by the ESA. Considering I was going to be in disguise and playing a part the whole time I was up there, I couldn’t exactly request calls down to the surface to a one Mr. Silverhand. </p><p> </p><p>We’d made the most of the few days of relative calm we’d had until Rogue had called. Getting through each day without a call from her had felt almost like holding my breath until we settled down to sleep; strangely like russian roulette just waiting until the next day would be the pull of the trigger that’d be her call. And today had been the day - I’d seen Rogue’s name on the screen of my holo and hesitated. This was a such a huge opportunity; it was important to me, would’ve been so fucking important to Jackie too. So why was I rethinking everything? Because Johnny would stick out his lip over not having me here whenever he so desired?</p><p> </p><p>“Excellent.” decided Mr. Blue Eyes with a bizarre calmness about him that honestly, made me kinda uncomfortable. He rose from the booth, and rebuttoned his blazer with ease. Everything about him felt weirdly smooth, like he’d just walked out of a CGI-BD or something. “I trust the process is comfortably now in your hands, Miss Amendiares, Miss V.” </p><p> </p><p>Johnny prolly wouldn’t have been happy to hear someone calling me anything <em> but </em> his name, but it wasn’t exactly a public thing just yet. The only person that really knew was Kerry - boy, he’d lost his shit when we told him. When he’d tried to explain his surprise at the two of us getting engaged and then technically married within the space of two days, I realised how impulsive and stupid it sounded. So for now, I’d tell anyone that asked that my rings were decorative; refused to take them off just for the sake of ease. Didn’t wanna take them off for any reason, least of all to lie about it. </p><p> </p><p>Didn’t matter that Johnny wasn’t here to complain about the technicalities of my name. I’d debate it on his behalf if it was appropriate - but I realised Mr. Blue Eyes didn’t give a shit who I was. He only cared about what I was capable of, and the part I’d play in his schemes. </p><p> </p><p>The second Mr. Blue Eyes slipped out of the booth, I let out a breath. Rogue seemed to relax too, and that was something considering she was the Queen of the fucking Afterlife; nothing got to her. And that was more telling than <em> anything </em> Mr. Blue Eyes had said about himself - if the best fixer in town was pressured into tenseness at his presence, then he was a big deal. I didn’t know much about him other than what Rogue had told me, which wasn’t much either: some mysterious force that had his fingers everywhere in this city. Had enough sway to fucking ruin all of us if we fucked this up. </p><p> </p><p>The worst part was, once upon a time I would’ve ran into this head first. But the risks were giving me pause - I had things to lose now, so was this really the smartest plan? I’d told Johnny no one had ever pulled off a heist in the Crystal Palace, and for excellent reason. It was the most secure and populated station in orbit; there was nowhere to go in space. Something goes wrong? I’d be trapped up there, killed - Johnny wouldn’t be any wiser until my month was up, and I didn’t come back down. </p><p> </p><p>So I <em> couldn’t </em> fuck this up. Not just for myself, but for him, too. If I died now after all the shit we’d been through, he’d find a way to resurrect me just to kill me all over again for being so stupid. </p><p> </p><p>“You sure everything is clear, V?” Rogue asked, and in true fixer fashion, she was making certain I had no questions. The worst part was what came next, “Once you’re at the ESA Embassy, that’s it. No more contact from anyone you know for an entire month, you’re on your own. Any questions, ask them <em> now </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>I let out a breath. “Run my identity by me one last time.”</p><p> </p><p>Instead of huffing or being frustrated with me like perhaps any other time, Rogue understood the importance of my asking - I needed to know every goddamn detail. And it would definitely be suspicious if I happened to be carrying information about myself on my person when I travelled up to the station.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re Victoria Farley; your distant father, Richard Farley, made his fortune in the 50s using synth-meat farms. You’re delicate and have since spent the high majority of your life <em> away </em> from your father, so no one should ask you any questions about him that you can’t just vaguely guess for answers.” </p><p> </p><p>I’d played the part of a dainty wallflower before, but I always had Jackie to back me up if I lost my patience and punched someone. I’d have to be especially careful, and patient at all times. Or better yet, use Victoria’s shyness to my advantage and keep to myself. Even if I’d probably have to fight to urge to make use of the Crystal Palace’s idyllic paradise of entertainment. Probably wouldn’t be as fun as they made it out to be on the ads though, especially not alone. Especially when I’d go back to an empty room alone and wish my rockerboy of a husband was with me. </p><p> </p><p>But I hadn’t left yet, so there was no use in sulking. I had a few more hours. </p><p> </p><p>“And my goals?” I asked, even though I knew them as clear as day. </p><p> </p><p>“First and foremost, you prioritise Mr. Blue Eyes’ contract, V.” she instructed firmly, with a glare in her eyes that was just <em> daring </em> me to fuck this up - she’d be in line right behind Johnny to resurrect me and kill me a third time if I did. “You make use of Alt, you get into that data vault and you leave <em> no </em> trace of your presence. It’s up to you when you attempt it, but I can’t stress how important it is that you don’t get caught. There’s nothing any of us can do for you up there.”</p><p> </p><p>I nodded. I knew that - once I was on that ship, I was on my own. Mostly, anyhow. Rogue knew about Alt; so did Mr. Blue Eyes, unfortunately, and that’s why I was allowed to take this contract. With an AI like her literally inside my head, I’d stand a better chance than any netrunner no matter how skilled he could send up there in my place. But I was sure Alt wouldn’t provide <em> much </em> company. I was gonna do my very best to see if I could piss an AI off to a point of yelling, though. </p><p> </p><p>“Second, you locate Morgan Blackhand.” Rogue continued, crossing her arms over her chest, “Use whatever motivation you can to convince him he’s better off down here than up there. That’s going to be difficult - and if you have to, you have my token to try to convince him. But the contract is top priority; don’t let Blackhand expose you.”</p><p> </p><p>She wanted him for her war, so if she was more than willing to accept the loss of Blackhand just to complete the contract, it kinda worried me how powerful Mr. Blue Eyes really was. If he could frighten Rogue so much that she’d let go of such an important piece like <em>Morgan Blackhand </em>in her game, then I found myself worrying more about what he and his secret powers were capable of.</p><p> </p><p>“And when I come back?” was my final question. </p><p> </p><p>“If you come back alive,” she said - excellent vote of confidence, “And you didn’t fuck us over completely, Blue Eyes will make us rich. Better yet and you have Blackhand, we win a war, and our debts are squared.”</p><p> </p><p>I swallowed a lump in my throat. Easier said than done, I was sure. I wet my lips and met her gaze; hated that I was going to rely on her and ask, but I had to. I <em> needed </em> to.</p><p> </p><p>“While I’m gone,” I began, and let out a sigh, “Watch Johnny for me. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid or impulsive. Don’t let him take jobs from anyone in here.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s capable, V. He can take care of himself.” Rogue was lying through her teeth because we both knew that wasn’t true - left to his own devices, Johnny could bring about armageddon. </p><p> </p><p>“Just promise me, Rogue. Promise that I’ll come back and he’ll be fine.”</p><p> </p><p>The queen sighed, before nodding. “I promise he’ll be as perfectly fucked up when you get back as he is now. Fixer’s honour.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks. Seriously.”</p><p> </p><p>She simply stared hard at me for a long minute. Then imparted one final wise snippet with me:</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t fuck this up, V.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sequel soon, babes! I promise.</p><p>I'm <a href="https://bubble-bones.tumblr.com/">bubble-bones</a> on tumblr! Come and hang out with me in the <a href="https://discord.gg/vn3twwhaHP">Cyberpunks discord server</a>!</p><p>EDIT 06/03/2021: the first chapter of the sequel has arrived! Go check it out <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871606/chapters/73508037">here</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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